Playing Both Sides
by Polished Gem
Summary: R&R! Doug has a history slaying 'wolves. Now that his sister has been changed, he desperately wants to believe werewolves are good. When a powerful 'wolf hunter offers him a job to slay his sister's pack, he takes it...to save her.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the sequel to Kidnapping a Werecub. I'm sure you'll be able to follow along just fine even if you haven't read the first book. I must warn you, though, there are spoilers for the first book! For those who have been anticipating this sequel, here it is! Thanks for taking interest in my stories and please review!**

**-Polished Gem**

Chapter 1

The lone figure moved through the crowd. He was almost always alone, but it didn't bother him. That's what he liked to think, anyway. He was an unremarkable figure—one that none of the other students would likely notice. He had taken to wearing nonprescription glasses lately because they made him look studious. They accentuated his nicely formed cheekbones that stood above his normally gaunt cheeks. When times were the worst, they nearly looked like sunken holes. This was because he couldn't eat well when he had the nightmares. But he hadn't had the nightmares in a while, so his cheeks had filled out with a healthy glow.

He caught sight of a graying mustache in the crowd and his heart dropped into his stomach. The man hadn't seemed to have noticed him yet. He dropped his head down as if he was looking at his shoes and thrust into the more populated part of the crowd. He would be just one bobbing head among many.

He silently cursed his predicament, assuming a calm and indifferent expression.

What was Rollson doing here anyway? The man never came to this side of Chicago. This was_ his_ territory—not that the werewolf hunter knew it. But Rollson had plenty of werewolves in the slums. Why would he leave when he had so much going for him? Unless he caught word of me, the boy thought. Though he wasn't technically a boy—he had just turned twenty-four in March.

He gritted his teeth. All he wanted was to be left alone. He had things going for him now. Granted, he had to attend a junior college because his grades hadn't been high enough to get him started on his degree right away. But he'd transfer eventually. He wasn't a bad student. He just hadn't had the time to study back in high school. He'd always been involved in missions with the Colonel.

He swallowed sickly as a few memories revived themselves from the tightly-locked cage in his mind. There were always gaps and the memories always managed to pull through when he least wanted to view them. Actually, he never wanted to view them.

Rollson was just another part of his awful past. He didn't want to have anything to do with him or his hunting adventures.

For once in the four months since he had started at the junior college, he actually felt like he stuck out with his short, reddish brown hair and his unremarkable and somewhat good looking features. Stick out like a sore thumb, he thought.

He kept on moving, clustered in the center of the crowd. Figures pressed in on him like an oppressive wall. He didn't like being closed in like this. He was still so used to keeping himself ready for any battle. He couldn't fight in the middle of this crowd. He could barely even move his arms with figures jostling his sides.

He took a glance at the watch on his wrist. Ten minutes until his next class started. The crowd moved along at an inching pace. He took a quick peak upward. Rollson was moving along the crowd in the opposite direction from himself. They would pass each other in moments. Rollson hadn't seemed to have noticed him yet.

He chewed on his lip and tried his best to assume a nonchalant expression if the other man did in fact happen to notice him. He was two feet away. One. The other man passed without incident.

When he was sure the man was out of earshot, he let out the air he was holding in his chest. It exited his body and he closed his eyes briefly in relief.

He was no part of any of it anymore. He was too filled with uncertainty to even make a good decision about werewolves. He didn't know if they were good—if they were just like humans like his sister had said. Maybe his sister was just a special case. Maybe she was just so strong that she had been able to keep herself through the change. All he knew is that he didn't want to murder potentially innocent victims anymore.

He caught sight of the huge amphitheater-sized classroom to the right. He exited the brunt of the crowd, jostling a few people as he left. He took a seat at the back of the room. The seats in front of him lowered a step for each row, creating a semicircle around a stage in the center.

It was the perfect seat. It afforded easy access to the exits and a view of everyone in the room. Nothing would be outside his view. He didn't know why he even thought about things like this anymore. He no longer had a use for the skills. It was something that had been so deeply ingrained into him since his teenage years.

He still worked out on a regular day basis. If he were to be honest with himself, he would have to say that he was almost obsessive about his schedule. Every morning, reflex training was followed by weight lifting and then a long run. If he had enough time, he would stretch all his muscles to keep his flexibility in good condition. Flexibility was an amazingly helpful talent in a fight.

He settled himself into the amazingly soft and plush theater seat, smiling casually. He had managed to escape trouble this time. But Rollson would be back. He was like a bulldog clenching his teeth into a bone. When he got an idea into his brain, he followed through with it like no tomorrow.

How had Rollson found out that he was here in the first place? He hadn't told anyone where he went—not even Jamie. Who had outed him? Who even knew where he was?

He had only two more weeks of classes before summer vacation. He could evade Rollson for two more weeks—he hoped. Then he would be home free. Minus the home, he thought. He would probably head back to Lampton Hill and keep an eye on Jamie. Even if she didn't know he was there. He didn't want to be directly involved in her life and her 'wolf activities.

The whole purpose of moving to Chicago was that it was only a half-hour drive from Lampton hill. He rarely traveled to see Jamie. In fact, she had not seen him since that day the Henderson home had exploded into oblivion. But he had seen her. It was his job to protect her. It always had been. Even if she had a boyfriend now.

He didn't know what to think of Porter. He seemed like he was an alright guy, but he had a hard time thinking any guy was good enough for his sister. She was more amazing than she knew.

But Porter seemed to make her happy. And as long as Jamie was happy, he was content.

A man was moving along the back of the classroom, moving into the room among a group of students. The students separated, moving to the front of the room. The man kept moving in his's direction. He could see him just out of the corner of his eye, but he didn't dare look up so he couldn't get a good enough look at him. His muscles were stiffening beneath the cotton of his shirt, waiting for the worse.

The man leaned over his shoulder and dropped a neatly folded note onto the long thin table in front of him. The note fluttered to land on top of the dark blue binder that he had place in front of him.

Slowly and casually and tilted his jaw up to look at the man. His stomach flip-flopped. Rollson was looking down at him with a faint smile under a thick graying mustache. From up close, he could see the stubble poking intermittently out of Rollson's cheeks and chin. Rollson's fingers fluttered in a tiny wave and the man left the room.

He watched the man's retreating back with a sick feeling in his stomach. You just didn't ignore a note from Rollson. He wasn't a man to be trifled with. He was a dangerous person when he was denied.

With a sigh, he picked up the tiny note and unfolded it.

_Doug,_

_Heard you were in town. I've got my sources. I'm rather offended that you didn't take the time to stop by and chat. Let's make up for lost time. I could use a guy like you at my side. I've seen your work. Meet me tonight at eight and we'll talk business. I have a job for you and I've heard you could use the money. I never expected to see a guy like you in college, but it does make an excellent cover._

_Rollson_

_P.S. I like the glasses. I look forward to our meeting._

A guy like me? He thought with a bristle of offence. Did the man think he wasn't smart enough? Well, he was. And someday he'd be a darn good physical engineer. He was good at stuff like that. How much pressure would cause something to break…how much leverage would allow him to twirl around and land properly. He would just be applying the same ideas to objects instead of himself.

He wasn't going to go to the meeting tonight, he determined. He wouldn't.

But he knew he would. If even just to listen to the proposition. He needed the money badly. He hadn't been able to get hold of the Colonel's money after his death. The bank had taken it all because the Colonel hadn't had a will.

If the jobs too bad, he thought, he could just refuse. And hopefully Rollson wouldn't decide he was a traitor and needed to be killed.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Look, do you mind if I go out for a smoke?" Leigh asked. The table fell into thunderous, embarrassed silence. Leigh's date, Luke Allen, who had been taking a small gulp of his lemon water, nearly choked on it. He put the glass back on the fancy tablecloth, the ice cubes tinkling softly. He lifted his hands as though he wanted to run them through his soft dark hair, but dropped them, inches away.

That's right, don't mess up your hair, Leigh thought, trying not to laugh. People thought her such a calm person because she didn't dare act on what she was thinking half the time. There was wisdom in keeping some thoughts to yourself. In Leigh's case, that pretty much applied all thoughts.

Amber's eyes were shooting daggers at her from her seat next to Luke. Alec was sitting right beside Leigh so she didn't get a look at his face. She could imagine what his laughing brown eyes were doing: just that. Laughing. He was the type to get amusement out of discomfort.

"G-go ahead," Luke finally managed. She could tell he was trying his hardest not to let the disgust show in his face. His lip was curling slightly.

She couldn't feel his emotions, though. He was human. She wished she hadn't agreed to go on this date in the first place. Not only was he completely not her type, but it felt vapid somehow…to talk to a date and not be able to feel his emotions. But the only two dateable werewolves in all of Lampton Hill were already dating other people. Besides, she didn't want either Porter or Alec. Porter was—well, Porter. He had his life so together it annoyed her sometimes. And Alec could drive her up the wall.

The only reason she was on this date tonight was because she had a soft spot for her friends—in this case, Amber. "You have to go to Prom!" Amber had said. "This is our Senior Year! You'll never get another chance. Besides, I've found the perfect date for you."

Well, after one _perfect_ night at the dance, they were dining at the Riverside Diner having _perfect_ lovely conversations—and everyone was having the _perfect_ amount of fun. The perfectness was getting to her so much that she was feeling stifled. And the cravings were getting to her, making her jittery. She'd gone cold turkey for two weeks and was pretty darn proud of herself. But after a night like tonight, anyone would want a smoke—well, anyone who'd ever tried one before.

She knew she never should have started. It was a near impossible habit to kick—even with her werewolf cells. But werewolf cells didn't modify chemical addictions. It wasn't quite the same thing as instantly healing brain injuries.

She wished Jamie had come along so that she wouldn't have to be smothered by model figures with popular reputations and clothes to match. She felt like she was at a shop-a-holics-are-us convention. Amber was and always would be her friend, but they had near nothing in common. Jamie, at least, shared some of her down-to-earth tendencies. But Jamie and Porter had opted for an alone date in which they had specifically emphasized the _alone_ part.

The two had been dating for about six months now. Leigh was almost envious of their close relationship. It was strange to think that Bella had been kidnapped only six months ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. Everything had been so quiet, so normal after that hectic week. It had taken Leigh at least a month after that to settle down to a normal routine. It was as though she had expected another set of problems to roll their way.

"Great," she said, smiling fakely. She squeezed passed Alec's knees, who didn't bother to get up and let her through. Selfish jock, she thought with amusement. Alec had always been like that. She loved him anyway—in a completely platonic sort of way.

She nodded to a waitress as she hurried out the door, promising. "I'll be back. My friends are still sitting at the table."

The waitress nodded back politely.

Leigh stepped out the door and breathed in the cool night air. She stood in the soft illumination that surrounded the restaurant, giving it a romantic setting. Beyond the pool of light, the world had fallen into blackness. Leigh could see more than most with her sensitive eyes, but right now, she really didn't care to. She gazed up at the blue-black sky, dotted with thousands of twinkling stars. The sky never got completely black here, not with the thousands of lights bursting forth in the Chicago district. Even out in a secluded town like Lampton Hill, it was still hard to get away from it completely. Leigh fumbled with her purse, her hands shaking slightly. Note to self, she thought mockingly, you know you're in withdrawal when…

She didn't finish the mental sentence. She didn't need to.

She took out the cigarette and lighted it eagerly. The smoke scent flared up in her nostrils immediately. She lifted the white cylinder to her mouth and that's when Mr. Guilt decided to bite her in the rear. She had been doing so well just to give it up now. For one lousy little date. With a sigh, she dropped the cigarette to the ground, grinding it underneath her heel. Blast these shoes too, she thought as a pain shot up her ankle. Amber had made her wear them.

With a sudden thought she hurried away from the restaurant out toward the river. The rushing sound filled her senses, lulling her into a peaceful calm. She rummaged through her purse, pulling free the whole carton. With the deft flick of her hand, she threw the whole thing into the water. Now temptation was no longer a step away.

She moved back into the restaurant just as the waiter was bringing out their desserts. The piece of chocolate cake that the waitress set before her was draped with chocolate sauce and whipped cream. A tiny cherry sat at the top, glistening red against the white whipped cream. She took a thoughtful bite before pushing the plate aside. She just wasn't hungry. She had too many other things on her mind.

Luke's eyes lit up. "I'll eat that," he offered.

She nodded distantly, caught up in her thoughts.

She was bursting with joy the moment that Amber decided it was time to leave. The ride home in Luke's car was a little awkward. He talked about sports and about being in the class presidency and applying for college.

Leigh examined her fingernails absently. She hadn't even started on her college applications. It was still too weird thinking that she was growing up—that she was eighteen now. As soon as she graduated in a month, her parents would probably kick her out too. They thought she was a bad influence on her little brothers and that she could do with a bit of experience in the real world—dealing with finances and such stuff. She wasn't sure she was quite ready to grow up.

Luke dropped herself off in front of her white stucco house. He didn't bother to walk her to the door—which she was fine with. She didn't want this to lead anywhere either.

She hurried inside, shutting the door softly behind her. Connor and Jake were probably already in bed. She could hear the soft drone of the news playing in the other room. Her father must have crashed on the couch after a long day at work.

"Hi, dad," she said to him as she stepped through the living room to reach the kitchen. Her father, who was too tuned into the news, didn't answer. Not that she cared—she had more urgent issues to deal with. Now that she was home, she wanted some real food. Human food was tasty, but by no means satisfying. Her stomach rumbled emptily. The restaurant food had already passed through her system. She had hurried to the little girl's room just before leaving the Riverside Diner. Instant bran, she thought, her lip quirking in a half-smile.

She pulled out a slice of raw steak, gnawing on it immediately. She knew her mother would shake a finger at her if she saw. She should at least put some spices on it to add flavor, but she like this raw taste. Food policy number one: Don't mess with what works.

Her cell phone jangled in her pocket. She grumbled, dumping the steak on the clean countertop. She wiped her hands with a rag and pulled the phone free. "Hello?" she asked.

"It's me," Amber answered cheerily.

"This better be good," Leigh informed her calmly, "because you just interrupted me from my dinner."

"It is," Amber's voice answered back, a little snappy. She and Porter could instinctively tell when Leigh was a little grumpy, even though no one else could. They'd just known each other too long. "So what did you think of him?"

"Was I supposed to think something?" Leigh asked in a bored voice. She took out a knife and cut off a chunk of meat one-handed. She chewed on it as Amber replied.

"Of course you were! He was your date."

"Stuffy," she replied around a mouthful of steak. "And rich."

"Rich is a good thing," Amber replied hopefully. "Rich is nice. He could buy you lots of presents."

Leigh didn't care about that, but there was no point in explaining this to Amber. Amber would simply refuse to believe that she found more pleasure out of sentimental gifts than a pair of thousand dollar earrings.

"He's just not my type," Leigh responded. "Besides, I'm not really on the market."

"Leigh, you're single," Amber's tone was incredulous. "Of course you're on the market. You can't really help but be."

"I like being single. Gives me room to do what I want."

"Just tell me what kind of guy you like," Amber pestered.

Stuffy, rich ones," Leigh replied, rolling her eyes. "Honestly? I don't know."

It was better that Amber think her a hopeless case than to tell her the truth. She did know what kind she liked. Ones with crying souls. Ones who were just aching to put their lives back together. And ones who could enjoy discussing the meaning of life. But this would seem completely absurd to Amber, so she didn't bother to mention it.

Besides, she really wasn't on the market. She had more important things to think about. Like her problems at home. Amber didn't know about that. She wasn't going to tell her, though, because Leigh didn't share that kind of information. She never had.


	3. Chapter 3

Ande: The stuff you wanted to know about Rollson:

Chapter 3

Doug didn't like this side of town. It gave him the creeps. Old weathered buildings with smashed windows and ancient billboards that were half ripped away. The Coca-Cola mural that was painted across one old building was covered with gang signs and other spray-painted messages. Doug shoved his hands into his pockets, disliking the moist tension that hung in the air. It squeezed on his lungs, putting him in an even worse mood. His feet crunched audibly on the moist and dirty sidewalk. No one bothered to clean up this area of town. The ones who cared enough, wouldn't dare live in a district like this, much less walk through it. The locals might wonder why Doug himself would walk through such a neighborhood. It was clear that he didn't belong.

A passerby was approaching from the opposite direction. His curious eyes looked out of a pasty face, half swallowed by the bandana that had been wrapped about his head. His shoulder's, lean and muscled, poked out of the sides of his wife beater moving in the rhythm of his gangster walk. More than likely, the guy was harmless, but Doug wasn't going to take his chances. He sent a menacing glare in the local's direction. The guy averted his eyes immediately. Doug moved on, satisfied. If the guy had been thinking about mugging him before, he certainly wasn't thinking about it now.

If he remembered correctly, Rollson only lived one street further on. He quickened his pace. He didn't want to be late for their meeting. Rollson was an irritable sort of man. Fair, usually, but irritable too.

He was right. He knew the place. Even looking upon it from a distance, he knew it. A four story, red brick building that looked as though it had once been an apartment complex. It was clear to see that it wasn't now, when one took in the razor-topped fence that surrounded the property. Doug wouldn't be surprised if it was an electric fence. He stepped up to it. His fingers touched the cool metal surface, not receiving a shock. Of course it wouldn't be turned on at normal times, but if Rollson were under siege by some of his enemies, it would be the perfect time to turn it on.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" A gruff voice demanded from behind him. "There'll be no loitering around here!"

Doug's lip quirked as he turned to face the man. He'd heard the man's boot scuffing the grass about the perimeter a mile away. It was best not to mention this. Rollson's security usually got pretty wigged out when someone had one over them. Besides, if he let the other man assume he was in control of the situation, he would get to Rollson much quicker.

"I'm here to see Rollson," he responded, letting his hands hang limply at his sides.

"Do you have an appointment?"

Now that Doug had turned, he could see the guy was massive. He had a giant's build and an intimidating face. Doug would have expected as much. Rollson probably had more skilled members of his team, but they were likely less formidable looking.

Doug scrounged around in his pocked, pulling the creased note free. He handed it to the security guy. The guy blinked at it for a moment. He snorted, "That's his handwriting, all right!"

Doug smiled although his mind was drawing a blank. Probably an inside joke.

"Come with me," the man said, nudging his massive shoulder to the front gate. Doug followed a step behind, being sure to keep his senses open to everything. If this meeting suddenly turned out bad, he'd need to make a run for it. He clearly couldn't beat the hundreds of men. Rollson had only sent a few of his men to help the Colonel last fall. He'd had more important tasks to take care of at the time. But no one refuses the Colonel. Doug's father was a legend among 'wolf hunters. Even Rollson knew when to kiss up.

The massive guy took out a pair of keys and opened the front gate. He gestured for Doug to pass through, which he did. "Go to the front door," the security guy instructed. Someone will show you the way from there."

Doug did as he was told, rapping lightly. The door opened immediately to display a considerably smaller individual. "You are Douglas Vince?" the man asked.

"Doug," He agreed.

The man nodded. "Down the hall. Third door to your left."

The building was in considerably better shape from the inside. The hall's wooden floor looked as though it had just been redone and the walls repainted. Rollson was not in need of money. He'd been born into a wealthy family who owned one of the largest hotel chains in the world. When werewolves had killed his parents, he started siphoning some of that money for other uses. This building had some of the most high tech electronic equipment he had ever seen.

Doug knocked on the third door. One just didn't barge in on Rollson.

"Come in," came a muffled voice.

Doug opened the door to reveal a man sitting at a cherry wood desk. Cherry wood display cabinets were also set at different angles around Rollson's office. Some held different types of weapons specially fashioned for the 'wolf hunter's use. Others held newspaper clippings of all the other deaths he had been involved in. And they weren't all runaway 'wolf rogues that nobody would miss. Somehow, he'd always managed to evade prosecution. But Rollson had the kind of money needed to cover his tracks.

"Sit down," Rollson suggested, pointing to the black leather seat with the cherry wood back that sat across from his desk. He smiled beneath the graying mustache.

Doug sat, feeling a little jittery. He didn't allow it to show outwardly. He knew he looked as calm as if he'd just walked into an ordinary business meeting. Doug held most of the cards as long as his emotions didn't give him away.

"You want to see me about a job?" Doug asked getting right down to business. It was a trait he had learned from his father. Rollson wasn't quite so inclined.

"Tell me," Rollson said. "You've been in town all this time and you've never come to visit me?"

"I've been taking a break from hunting," Doug answered. It was a good answer. It said enough without saying too much. "The last adventure took a toll on me."

"Ah, yes," Rollson leaned forward in his desk, his fingers threading as he sent Doug an inquisitive glance. "It's terrible about what happened to your father. And your sister, too. That must have been a terrible blow, to see Jamie turned into one of their kind. To something evil."

Doug didn't respond to this. It was a sensitive issue for him and he didn't appreciate Rollson bringing it up. In fact, he was rather peeved that the man would be so insensitive as to rub it in.

"So about this job," Doug said instead.

"It's good to talk about this," Rollson persisted. "Get it out in the open. Like the fact that your sister's still alive—or what's left of her. I'm surprised you haven't killed that _thing_ yet. It would do Jamie's memory good not to kill that evil soul inhabiting her body. But I'm sure it's hard for you…the thought of killing something that looks like your sister; that acts like her."

Doug ground his teeth beneath his impassive face. How could Rollson bring him here on a pretense of a job and spew this garbage before him? He would have liked nothing better than to have punched Rollson right in the center of his contemplative face. But he knew he couldn't do that. Well, he couldn't do it and get away with it.

"Well," Doug stood with exaggerated calm. "If you don't have a job for me, I think I'll be on my way."

"Wait," Rollson lifted his hand in a stop gesture. Doug paused and sat back in the seat. On the exterior, Rollson made the word seem more like a suggestion than an order. But he could see beneath the other man's exterior. A commanding, almost irritated glance shone in Rollson's eyes. The look vanished into a smile upon Doug sitting back into his seat.

"I do have a job for you," he said. "I'm sorry if bringing out those memories upset you. I just wanted to understand your position better. I wanted to see if you were good for the job. To make sure you hadn't changed your feelings toward the 'wolves."

"Never," Doug said with a dark look. This statement was only half true.

Rollson smiled with a satisfied look. "That's all I needed to know. I had to ask, Doug. I know this business takes a toll on all of us. I just want you to know that I understand. The 'wolves took my family away too."

Doug only nodded and hoped the conversation would end soon.

Rollson opened a desk drawer and pulled out a manila envelope, placing it in front of Doug. "Open it," he suggested.

Doug ripped open the seal and stuck his hand inside. Sheaves of paper held together with a rubber band met Doug's fingers. He pulled out a stack and looked at the green money that was held between his fingers. He wanted it. He knew he did. It had been hard enough just to pay for this semester at the college. No one would offer him a student loan without some sort of backing. He didn't have anyone to co-sign for him.

"That's two thousand dollars," Rollson said with a nod toward the money. "And that's just for this job. I plan to make use of you in the future if you'll oblige."

"Depends," Doug held out. "I'm not much of a joiner. Tell me what the job is and I'll make my decision."

"Neither was your father," Rollson chuckled. "I tried to get him to work with me several times. He generally chose to work on his own. But I'll make this worth your while."

Rollson picked up a photograph from inside another drawer and placed it in front of Doug. It was a picture of a clean-cut man beaming into the camera. He had the air of a businessman with his dark hair slicked back and a hundred-watt smile. His shiny whites nearly made Doug want to squint. The only thing unusual about the picture was the man's eyes. From the first glance he'd taken, Doug noticed the silver ring surround the pupil. Werewolf.

"His name's Tony Waldowin." Rollson remarked. "A rival of mine in the hotel business. He started out as a really small chain, but he's grown as he's taken over other businesses or other businesses have mysteriously died out. You see, the owners and CEO of these other businesses were all turning up dead with the strange animal bites. Tony seemed to like to disembowel his victims. Of course, no one would ever blame Tony for an animal attack. Now I think Mr. Waldowin has placed his greedy eye on my business. But I," Rollson continued, placing a finger in his own direction, "am a little harder to kill."

Doug swallowed the bile rising up his throat. This Tony guy was obviously not a nice character. He deserved to be taken down a notch or two.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked of Rollson?"

"I want you to kill him," Rollson replied simply. "And because I trust you so much, I'm willing to give you the money in advance."

"Done."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Doug crept along the side of the house at a slow but steady pace. He was no longer in the slums. This was a really nice neighborhood. He knew what those tiny dark objects hugging the fancy Californian stucco were all about. They jutted out just far enough for the human eye to see. He dropped to the ground, sliding along beneath. Most motion sensors didn't view anything directly beneath them. Lucky for him, he made it passed without incident. He kept his breath held anyway. The house could have a silent alarm.

He dropped to the ground again as he found another one embedded into the wall of the mansion. He got grass in his mouth, which he tried to spit out silently. It wasn't a nice taste. After that, he decided to stay down. It was so dark out that he didn't know when he might miss one of the sensors. And if he was caught, he'd have quite a lot of explaining to do.

He didn't exactly look innocent with grass stains running along his dark clothing. And if they took the time to search him well, they would find a strangle-looking instrument within one pocket that nearly resembled a gun. Rollson had given it to him for his use. It was an interesting little gadget. Apparently it shot out millions of hypersonic silver needles when the trigger was pulled. Doug had the object on safety right now. The gun could cause as much havoc to him as it could to the werewolf.

Doug smiled grimly. Tony Waldowin was about to get quite a surprise. Doug didn't particularly feel sorry for the man. He killed innocent people—all for the sake of his business. Just to live in a mansion with a six car garage and a pool and tennis court. There was also a shimmering lake out back where several boats were docked. Doug didn't feel the least bit jealous. This was blood money. It was tainted.

Doug hadn't killed someone in over six months. He had grown unused to the idea. He was afraid that when he did, the nightmares would come back. He didn't feel sorry for Tony. In fact, the man deserved to die. But the thought of doing so brought him no pleasure as such business had for the Colonel. It was business as usual for Doug. If anything, he felt the sickness that was threatening to worm around in his belly. He had been pushing it away all night. This was something he had to do for the safety of humans everywhere. He was no stranger at taking the law into his hands.

As he turned another corner, a giant wooden object loomed above him. Doug smiled thinly. Just what he had been looking for. If the size of this deck was any indication, then this was the one that would enter the master bedroom.

Doug pulled himself away from the shadows of the house and walked through the shadows that fell from the massive deck. He gripped one of the supports with hands clad in black leather gloves. They were thick—specially designed to keep from giving off fingerprints or DNA samples. Doug's favorite feature was the rough, gripping texture on each finger. It helped immensely when it came to climbing.

He gripped each side of the post and began to climb. His muscles didn't strain much. He was used to climbing. His arms heaved him upward where he moved his feet caught his body from falling backward. His arms were free to pull him farther. He shimmied up to the top of the deck in about ten seconds flat. His hands caught the rail, which he used for leverage to boost his legs up in a horizontal position. He swung them over and landed softly.

He moved to the side of the house before the inhabitants of the room could look out the sliding glass door. Doug caught sight of two people sleeping soundly in a bed before he squeezed up against the side of the house. He cursed his luck. Who knew that such an evil man would have a wife and possibly children? He would be saving the world from one more werewolf—but what of his family? What if his family were good 'wolves like Jamie—if Jamie was a good 'wolf?

He pushed the thought aside. A good wolf and a bad wolf wouldn't align themselves together. Besides, if he was an evil man, then his family was better off without him. Doug felt sick as he thought this. Maybe he and Jamie were better off without the Colonel, but it didn't make his loss any easier.

Shut up, he told the voice in his head. If he kept this up, he was going to convince himself not to shoot the 'wolf. But he needed to be taken down before he hurt another person. And the police weren't going to do anything about him. They were still convinced that all those connected people were mysteriously killed by animal bites. And nothing would make them believe differently. Why would they want to believe in werewolves anyway? The idea would turn their nicely ordered lives upside-down.

So there were people like Doug to deal with these issues. As much as he hated to be the one to do it. You don't pick your situation in life, he thought. Only how you'll react to it.

He let out a breath. He was ready now—he hoped.

With a silent apology to Mr. Waldowin's family, he swung his fist into side of the house. The sound made a dull thunk. Not loud, but loud enough to wake the people in the next room. 'Wolves weren't known for being deep sleepers. Far from it, actually.

He squeezed up against the side of the house, listening intently. He heard the sound of covers moving and the barest whisper of feet dropping to the floor. The next noise was anything but quiet. "IS ANYONE OUT THERE?"

Doug cringed as the sound hit his ears. Tony was going to burst his eardrums if the man wasn't careful. Not that Tony would care. Doug allowed for a moment of silence, for effect. He had to lure the man to turn off the security and step out onto the deck. That was the only way this was going to work.

After a moment, he punched the side of the house again. He squeezed as far up against the side as possible. His back was flattened to the wall. He could imagine that Tony was looking out the glass door. The man wouldn't see him from this angle. He would have to come outside.

There was a pause that seemed to take forever. Finally, the door slid open on its rollers. Doug glanced to the side as one barefoot stepped out the door followed by another. Above the bare feet were pajama pant legs and above that, an old tee-shirt. Doug took in the man's politician look and the bat grasped between to muscled arms in a second. Then the back was being swung at him.

Doug hopped out of the way a second before impact. Tony was fast and strong, which was no surprise. It was to be expected. He lifted the gun from his pocket and pointed it at Mr. Waldowin.

Waldowin looked at the gun with confusion and a little fear. It may not have looked like a gun, but the way Doug was holding it, made it a weapon. Waldowin backed up a step.

"What do you want?" Waldowin intoned, lowering the bat slowly. Doug wasn't fooled. This wasn't a sign of peace. The way Tony was holding the bat at his side; it would be ready for unrestricted movement. In seconds, that bat could be flying toward Doug's head.

He stood ready, his muscles taut. He inched back the safety on his weapon as he spoke. "I'm here to stop you from killing any more people."

The man laughed softly. His eyes glinted with a feral light. "Kill me?" he asked. "My boy, I don't think you know who you're talking to. I could rip you apart in seconds. You have no idea what I am."

Doug pulled the trigger. There was a soft squeal and thousands of silver needles rained through the air. Waldowin opened his eye wide, tracking the needles flying toward his form. He made as if to move, but it was too late. His body was suddenly cut with a thousand tiny points, tearing up his insides.

Doug's stomach heaved at the sight. It was all he could do from spewing his supper over the Waldowin deck.

I don't want to be this, he thought. I don't want to be like this. But it was too late.

Waldowin fell to the deck.

"That's where you're wrong," Doug said in a long, shuddering breath. "I do know what you are."

But there was no one to reply except a woman screaming from inside the house.

Doug jumped over the side of the deck and fell into the darkness beyond. A moment later, the sound of the house alarm began to wail. Doug was already gone.

He couldn't get the thought out of his mind that he'd done something really terrible. He kept walking steadily until he was far away. There was no getting rid of the guilt. No getting rid of the self-hatred that threatened to consume him. He would have nightmares tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

C minus my butt! I wrote a darn good essay! Leigh thought hotly as she leaned into the movement of the motorcycle. She swerved in a sharp turn. Normally, taking her 'bike out for a ride was the perfect cure for any bad mood. No one would have known it to look at her, but Leigh was a romantic. The wind in her hair and all that stuff. But instead, here she was getting a sore butt and mosquitoes were splatting against the front of her helmet. It wasn't a pretty sight. She found her mood getting sourer with each moment.

Just breath, she told herself. It had been her ritual to take long rides after anything went wrong. She had to go home with an impassive face and mind. Show nothing at all. If she was in a foul mood then she must be doing bad in school—in which case she apparently needed a lecture about going somewhere in life. And if she went home smiling, then she must be on something. Then she had to be lectured about setting a good example for her brothers. It was so infuriating because she couldn't win.

Besides, she didn't do any hardcore drugs. Sure, sometimes she joked about it to get a rise out of Amber…but how stupid did they think she was? Yeah, there was that time a couple of years ago when she'd experimented with a couple of things—because it provided a release from her mother's incessant nagging. She'd soon learned that it wasn't something she wanted to do.

With a reluctant sigh, Leigh guided her 'cycle in a u-turn and headed back to town. She thought she could pull on an impassive face now and block her emotions from public view. At least then they would leave her alone. Not talking to them was better than talking. Sure, she still saw their condescending glances, but it was better than another shouting match.

She was nearly home now. Too quickly for her liking. She almost wished she could turn around and drive back outside of town. But she'd have to face them inevitably—like every single day after school. Or when she couldn't muster the courage, she camped out in the Carlyle's garage. They had a nice little sitting area just in front of the cars with some comfy old couches. A sleeping bag was always set out for her—probably because she came over too often for them to ever put it away. But they never seemed to tire of her. It was one thing to be grateful for. Sometimes she didn't even let them know she was there—embarrassed to let them see she needed a place to crash again. The Carlyle's never locked the garage door, so it was a convenient spot.

Leigh turned into the driveway, spitting up red gravel behind her. She parked, turning off the thrumming engine. She wasn't one of those Harley Davidson fans who rocked up the road with their loud noise. She liked her mufflers. All she needed was a nice soft purr to lull her into a calming state. The silence that came with the twisting key also pushed a weight on to her shoulders.

Leigh did her best to boost herself up. She smiled to herself, pretending she was happy—that everything was okay. She gripped the front door, swatting at a couple of mosquitoes. She could do this. She let the smile drop from her face and walked casually into the house.

Her dad didn't even look up when she walked in the door. He was watching news again. His eyes were glued to the screen.

"Hi," she muttered.

He grunted a reply.

Leigh just shrugged and hurried up the stairs. A smell was wafting toward her nose. It was absolutely rancid. It was like that faint smell she got every time she walked into her room except ten times worse. She was pretty sure there were some rotten leftovers in there somewhere, but she'd never gotten around to cleaning. Raw meat got to smelling a lot worse than human leftovers. It's not like she spent enough time in her room to care. She supposed she'd have to clean her room for once in like three years.

She'd gotten to the end of the hall when she paused. She could feel blood creeping up into her face—and it wasn't embarrassment. There was noise coming from behind her bedroom door. Soft shuffling sounds. And she could faintly smell her mother's scent from behind the closed door.

Leigh was absolutely livid.

She opened the door and demanded. "What do you think you're doing?"

Her mother had already started to turn at the sound of the door squealing open on its hinges. The look of disgust was evident on her face as she held up the slab of rotten meat—her nose wrinkled. She dropped the meat into a large black garbage bag.

"What are you doing?" Leigh repeated, taking in her room. Her stuff had been moved into four piles. Leigh could actually see the worn grey carpet beneath. Normally it was covered with papers and clothes and knick knacks of all sorts.

"This place is disgusting!" Her mother exclaimed. She looked like she wanted to wring her hands through her short, dark hair but decided against it because what she had just been carrying in her hands. "How long has this meat been in your room? A month?"

"Are you searching my room again?" Leigh asked. She was working her hardest to speak in a level tone. All she really wanted to do was yell her lungs out, but Leigh didn't do that. She rarely yelled. Even when things got really bad.

Her mother didn't need to say anything. The answer was evident on her severe and strained face. Her disappointment etched dark lines in Leigh's mind.

"What about privacy?" Leigh floundered. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"What about my children?" Her mother rejoined. "Don't they mean anything to you?"

"I am your child!"

Her mother snatched a Ziploc bag off her dresser and hung it for between her fingers for Leigh to see. Leigh felt her cheeks turn red again. This time it really was because of embarrassment. She knew what was pinched between her mother's fingers.

It was the weed she'd bought off one of her old, shady buds in ninth grade. She'd since lost it in her messy room. She'd never smoked one bit of it. It had been in here for years, and she'd forgotten all about it. Now the memories came flooding back, bringing the blood rushing to her cheeks in a torrent.

"No child of mine uses this!" Mrs. Bennett snapped sharply through thin lips. The anger was rippling from her in palpable waves. "Leigh, how could you? I thought you were finally getting over that stage—and now this! Don't you care what you're teaching your brothers? Don't you care what they're learning from you?"

Of course she cared. That was one of the reasons why she'd stopped.

"I didn't know it was here," Leigh managed. She hoped her mother would be able to feel the truthfulness in her mind. It wasn't often that she left herself open to probing. She had learned to keep walls around herself over the years. Even her 'wolf friends—her pack—rarely knew what she was feeling.

Leigh's mother threw the Ziploc bag into the garbage bag with a sharp movement. She didn't even try to read Leigh's emotions. She placed her bony hands on her thin waist and stared Leigh in the eye. She looked like she was ready to burst.

"Oh, that's rich!" she snapped. "Just like you didn't know the meat was in here? Leigh, I really though we could change you. I really thought we could help you get through this stage. But you're never going to change, are you? We're just not important enough for you! You always were a selfish child."

Leigh swallowed hard. Didn't care? Who was it that watched over the boys when they went to all their fancy dinner parties? Who was it who fed them because her dad couldn't bring himself to get away from the TV? How could her mother say this? What did they think she was doing that whole time?

But there was no point in saying this to her mother. Mrs. Bennett wouldn't listen to her no matter what she said—because apparently, she never told the truth. She was the black sheep of the family. The one they never wanted to admit was their daughter.

"I'm leaving," Leigh muttered.

She could crash at Amber's tonight.

"Don't walk away on me, young lady!" Her mother spoke sharply. "We still need to talk."

Leigh folded her arms across her chest and leaned into the door frame. "So talk," she suggested. She couldn't help the icy tone that spilled from her mouth. She was losing control of her emotions.

"We need to talk about where you'll be living after you graduate, because it certainly won't be here! A week after graduation. That's all you have. Hear me? I won't have you polluting your brothers."

"Fine," Leigh replied briefly. She was too angry to care at the moment. Besides, she'd figure something out. She always did.

"And I don't want you to visit," her mother finished, her gaze never wavering. "not until you've got your life put back together. For their sakes."

Leigh's eyes widened at this. She could feel her pupils dilate to take in her mother's livid form. She could feel the 'wolf in her wanting to snap out at being treated this way. It wanted to move her into an attacking position. She suppressed the 'wolf.

"Fine," she repeated, just as succinctly. "Are we done?"

Her mother only glowered. Leigh took this as a yes.

She stalked away, pulling her key from her pocket as she went. Her father didn't even look up as she left.

That's right, she thought. Always stay uninvolved. The only reason you rarely yell at me is because you rarely realize I exist.

She hurried out the door and hopped onto her motorcycle. Just as she was about to rev up the motorcycle, her phone jangled in her pocket. It was playing the Looney Tunes song. She couldn't help but smile. She'd always liked that song. It was the kid in her that she couldn't quench.

As much as she hated to admit it, she was scared to be kicked out of the house. She didn't know where she'd go or what she'd do. She wasn't even prepared. She hadn't saved up any money. She hadn't even sent in her College Apps. She didn't particularly want to grow up just yet—well, not quite.

She rummaged through her pocket until she found the phone. She pushed the talk button and the tune cut short. "Hello?" she asked.

"Leigh?" Amber's voice replied. "You need to come over here now. Something bad is happening."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Leigh was the only one who could move her vehicle into the parking lot. She squeezed between the other two vehicles already in the driveway. The Carlyle's had another two cars in the garage. Mr. Carlyle had quite a fetish for hot, fast vehicles—like Leigh's dad. Porter and Alec were forced to park out on the street.

This is bad, Leigh thought grimly. If we're all here, that means trouble. She hopped off the motorcycle and just barely wrenched the helmet from her face before she was at the front door. Porter and Alec took no time to step up behind her.

Jamie answered the door. Her pale frame was emitting nervous and jittery emotions. She looked like such a frail little thing—always had. She had a way of surprising people. Leigh had personally seen Jamie whomp Alec. Alec didn't have a chance—especially now. It had been a very satisfying sight.

Leigh supposed that Jamie appeared shy—that's why people were falling all over themselves to make her feel at home. That opinion never lasted. People ended up thinking Jamie was stuck up or cruel. Leigh knew the truth. Jamie could be irritable and anti-social at times, but she had a heart of gold. Her problem was that she cared too much—about everyone. She wanted to save the bad guys too.

Porter was at her side in a moment, pulling Jamie into his arms. He'd always had a thing for damsels in distress—and as much as Leigh knew Jamie liked to think of herself as a rock hard and determined fighter, she wasn't. She could never keep her emotions out of the fight. Leigh could feel how much Porter wanted to protect her. How much he wanted to fix whatever was making her feel like this. Leigh couldn't help feeling a little jealous. It would be nice to have someone care about her like that. The problem was that she probably wouldn't open up long enough for to expose herself to that kind of scrutiny.

Amber appeared behind Jamie, biting her lip in a nervous gesture. Fight shone in her eyes.

"Come sit down," Amber suggested. "We have something that we need to talk about."

Bella was sitting on the living room floor, tromping her little toy ponies across the carpet. Her blond head glanced up as the visitors seated themselves around the room. There was a grape juice stain around her lips. She said very quietly and shyly, "The policeman wanted to talk to Mr. Maxwell."

"My dad?" Porter asked, leaning forward. "Bella? Was there a policeman here? What does he want with my father?"

"That's what we wanted to talk about," Amber interrupted. She turned to Bella. "Why don't you take your pony and go play upstairs."

"I don't want to be alone up there. The toilet monster will come and get me," she said simply, as if this were a fact and not a figment of her imagination.

"All right," Amber sighed. "You can stay, but you've got to be quiet for a moment, okay? We've got something that we want to talk about."

Bella nodded her tiny head solemnly and sent her pony tromping around the room again.

Amber sat next to Alec, leaning her head into his shoulder. "Yes, a policeman came by about a half hour ago. Detective Tross. My parents don't even know because they're in Chicago, buying some things."

"What did the police want?" Porter asked. "What's this got to do with my father?"

Amber looked down at her nails, finding them very interesting for a moment.

Jamie answered for her. "Apparently, the detective who investigated the Colonel's death was kind of an imbecile."

"Of course he was," Porter interrupted. "That's why we chose him."

"Well, something's caused detective Tross to go back and look in the archives," Jamie said with a shiver. "I think someone's tipped him off. Someone who wants us to pay for this."

"Your brother," Leigh suggested instantly. She spoke before her nerve centers kicked in, blaring a warning message. She knew how much Jamie cared about Doug—how much she trusted him. But frankly, the guy had tried to kill all of them at one point or another. He seemed like the perfect candidate for something like this.

"Don't say that," Jamie replied, her voice a little sharp.

She spoke more calmly as she added. "I think it must be Rollson. He wasn't too happy when we put one under him. We kind of had him in a trap. And Rollson likes to be the one in charge."

"We should have killed them all when we had the chance," Alec said darkly.

"And tell the police what, exactly?" Amber bristled in her boyfriend's arms. "That we just happened to fall upon twenty people dead on the hillside? They'd start to get suspicious when they got the townspeople to go on wild animal hunts and couldn't find anybody."

"At least they couldn't trace it back to us," Alec replied in a grumpy tone.

"We couldn't have killed them anyway," Jamie replied. "It was just _wrong_."

"Speak for yourself." Alec seemed determined to turn this into some kind of fight so that he could get his aggression worked out. Nobody was falling for the bait. It only made him more irritable.

"We still haven't explained what this has to do with my father," Porter said to change the subject.

"Detective Tross thinks he has proof that your father was lying about the autopsy. He has the silver bullet Amber shot at the Colonel," Jamie explained. "He thinks it's very strange that the Colonel was shot with a homemade silver bullet—especially since this was supposed to be a hunting accident. He thinks that because your father lied he must either have been the murderer or be an accessory to murder."

Porter sat bolt upright, his shoulders rigid. Fear showed in his normally calm features. "What! What did you say?"

"We told him the Colonel was a strange man. He liked to make his own bullets. He let Alec go out into the woods to shoot at a deer they were tracking. The deer bolted back in the direction they'd come. Alec shot at it and accidentally hit the Colonel instead."

"Thanks for bringing me into this," Alec snapped.

Amber elbowed him sharply in the side. "You agreed to this! We can't exactly change this story half-way through."

Alec only snorted.

"That's it!" Amber got to her feet, pulling Alec up by the front of his shirt. She was positively glacial. She looked like she was ready to give him the telling to of his life as she dragged him into the kitchen and out of sight.

Leigh only smirked. They'd probably do more making out than fighting. Alec was irritating even at his best times, but Amber appeared to love him anyway. Leigh had the feeling it wasn't just because Alec was the best looking guy in school. Still, she couldn't understand what Amber saw in him.

"And," Jamie added once Amber and Alec were gone. "The detective is very suspicious about the house that blew up in the vicinity of the hunting accident. He has a feeling that it wasn't just teenagers playing with stuff they shouldn't.

Leigh shivered inwardly, blocking her emotions from view.

"Are we going to tell the parents?" she asked.

Jamie nodded. "We'll have to. But I don't know what they can do about this."

Leigh nodded, glancing out the window. It was getting dark now. She could feel how tired she was becoming, even though she'd been trying to ignore the feeling in the back of her eyes and in her bones. She took a quick glance over at Jamie and Porter, who were leaning into each other comfortingly. They looked like they wanted to be alone.

Bella was off in her own world, bothering no one. That left Leigh.

Leigh got to her feet, pulling her black leather jacket tighter around her form. It felt so cold in here all of the sudden. She had the suspicion that it was just her nerves talking. She stretched her arms out and yawned for effect.

"I'm going to crash in the garage."

She took her boots off once she reached the entrance and took the door that sat beneath the curved staircase. She padded across the cold cement floor. She hopped up onto the couch, falling into its folds. She buried her toes deep into the sleeping bag, trying to make them warm.

There was a noise behind her. Leigh glanced up just as the garage light turned on. Jamie was standing in the doorway. She looked reluctant to step across the cold floor. She did so anyway, her reddish-brown hair bouncing against her thin shoulders. She hopped onto the couch opposite Leigh.

Leigh raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"What's wrong with you?" Jamie asked. "Besides what's bugging all of us?"

Jamie was too dang observant for Leigh's taste. As much as she loved the girl—she honestly thought of Jamie as her closest friend—she wished she wouldn't pry so much. She didn't want Jamie to understand—to care. She didn't want to open up.

Leigh almost snorted then. Aren't I just the walking contradiction, she thought mockingly. First I want someone to care about me. And then I don't.

"Getting nosy again?" she teased.

"It never hurt to have a little curiosity and concern." Jamie shrugged her shoulders.

"You haven't been talking to the cat," Leigh replied, letting her dark hair fall across the cushion behind her.

"Course not," Jamie replied. "He's dead. But if he wasn't, he'd tell me that the curiosity was worth it all along."

Leigh laughed at this. It was good to let the laughing fever overtake her. After a few more random comments, they were both rolling with quiet laughter. Leigh felt her stomach rumble compulsively. She felt some of the pent up anger being released from her.

She let out a gasping breath. "Nothing much…is wrong…with me."

Jamie stopped laughing then, giving her an odd look. "You sure?"

"Sure I'm sure," Leigh replied with a smile. "Except that I'm having a major craving right now."

This last part was half true. She could feel the craving gnawing at her, threatening to eat away at her insides. It took almost everything she had just to ignore it.

"Don't give into it," Jamie replied.

"You didn't have to tell me that," Leigh replied a little irritably. Then she smiled to make up for the release of negative emotions. She hardly ever let anyone see even the slightest bit of negative emotion from her. She felt guilty just then for doing so.

"I think I can make it this time," Leigh told Jamie. "I really think I can quit."


	7. Chapter 7

**First off, I want to apologize for how poorly written Chapter 6 was. When I read over it, I just cringe. I hope this chapter will be a lot better.**

**Ande-Thanks for all your great reviews! They're much appreciated. And don't worry! The next chapter will be about Doug, just in case you were wondering. I was just trying to make the timeline fit and add some stuff about Leigh that needed to be added. By the way, the end of this chapter was just as much a surprise to me as it will be to you. I didn't expect this to happen. I'm curious to find out what happens next—funny that this statement is coming from the writer herself. Haha!**

Chapter 7

Leigh poured herself a big gulp full of water. Anything to get that bile flavor out of the back of her mouth. The cool liquid poured down her parched throat, feeling better than any pleasure food available. There was something about the life-giving substance. 'Wolves needed it too. With her acute taste buds, the flavor was all the more enticing.

The Carlyle's were having a quiet dinner at the table. They had invited her to join them, but she couldn't stomach any food tonight. It had been a week since Detective Tross' first visit. He had been pestering Jamie and all of her friends nonstop. Leigh had managed to evade him so far. She had no use for the human law force. Sure, she admired them at times—but they were completely clueless to her world. They had no place in 'wolf enforcement. The problem was that 'wolf enforcement was too far and few between to make a real difference.

Leigh leaned against the countertop with an inaudible sigh. She splayed her elbows behind her. She wondered if the Carlyle's had even noticed that she'd been living in their garage all week. She dreaded going home and all the accusations and arguments it would bring. Besides, they probably liked it better when she wasn't around.

But she had left her textbooks in her room. She had been too furious when she left to think about things that seemed so mundane. But she needed them now. Exams would be in five weeks and it was getting hard to study properly.

Leigh fished into her pocket. She found the key ring, pulling it free. She looped it around her finger. The keys spun in a circle, tinkling.

With an inward sigh, she headed for the door. She had to walk around the side of the house, because she didn't particularly want to walk out the glass doors in the dining room. She didn't particularly want to interrupt the Carlyle's dinner, but she needed to get to the woods behind.

Leigh stepped into the brush. Her foot crackled on a twig. She didn't even bother to hide her approach. Hardly anyone walked through these woods. That's why it was an ideal place to hide her bike. She should probably just put her 'cycle in the driveway, but she was embarrassed. She didn't want the Carlyle's to know how much time she was spending at their house.

Leigh snorted mockingly. She probably wasn't fooling anyone but herself.

The late April breeze brushed against her skin, warm and peaceful. She trudged ahead until she caught sight of her bike in the distance. Her heart caught in her stomach. There was a man standing next to her bike wearing a police uniform.

She could turn back…it was too late. Detective Tross was already looking across the glade at her with an inquisitive smile playing across his lips. You couldn't hide from him forever, Leigh thought. She might as well get this over with.

She walked faster, letting the twigs crackle under her feet faster. She let out a tiny hiss of annoyance as she watched the detective slide his hand longingly across the leather seat of her motorcycle.

"Watch yourself," she snapped once she had gotten closer. "I paid good money for that bike."

The detective nodded to her. A curt nod. He fingered the dashboard, making her cringe. If he wasn't a policeman, she would have slapped his hand away. "No worries. I can appreciate a good bike when I see one. I like what you've done to the dashboard."

Leigh shrugged. "When you have extra time."

"Extra time is not always a good thing." Tross gave her a sharp look out of his chiseled face. He looked like a hawk without the beak. Instead, he had a pair of thin lips that he liked to purse in curiosity and disapproval. Right now, Leigh decided he was giving her the disapproval glance. "There's nothing wrong with using it constructively…such as decorating your bike. But extra time can also lead to bad results…such as dead people."

Leigh glared. "I'll pretend you weren't just accusing me there."

"There was an interesting thing I found out about you, Leigh Bennet."

Leigh bristled as he said her name. She didn't like the idea of her name flopping around on that man's lips. He ignored her stiff shoulders, placing a couple fingers to his chin.

"I tested," he continued, "some samples of Mr. Vince's skin that had been left aside and preserved. They were taken from some scratch marks on his upper arm. Did you know I found some DNA samples that weren't just his own. Do you know whose DNA it was?"

Leigh sent him a wary glance.

"Yours."

She refused to give him anything. She stared at him impassively. He might have evidence. Leigh wasn't particularly sure whether or not she had scratched the Colonel during the fight or not. It had all been a blur to her—a necessity that she didn't want to remember. But there was still the chance that he was trying to bluff her.

"What are you trying to pull?" She asked.

Despite her perfectly calm appearance, she could feel her heartbeat start to speed up a couple of notches. She wished the others were with her. They would be able to handle this better together.

"I'm not trying to pull anything, Mrs. Bennett," the policeman replied. "Tell me, Leigh, what were you doing on the scene that night? Why did you lie about being there? My source tells me that only four people were on the hillside that night. Mr. Vince, his son—who has since disappeared, Amber Carlyle, and Alec Hindley. How did you suddenly get into the picture?"

Leigh folded her arms across her chest. She went for an outright lie—one that she hoped would fool the detective. "It's not my fault if your junior detectives are incompetent," she grated. "If they forgot to write a name down, then it's their fault. I was there—and the reason you found my scratch marks in his arm was because I was afraid. I saw Mr. Vince fall down and I ran to him. I was so frantic when I tried to wake him up that I accidentally scratched him."

The detective raised his eyebrows. "Interesting. That's the exact same excuse that Amber gave to explain her own nail prints."

Leigh cursed silently. Her expression didn't change. She wouldn't let her muscles move an inch. She shrugged.

"We were both there. I don't know why we wouldn't have the same reaction. We were both scared."

The detective took a step toward her and then another. Thankfully, he took his grimy hand away from the seat of her bike too. But he was too close for Leigh's liking. An intimidation tactic, Leigh decided. She tried not to flinch when she felt his breath brush across the sensitive nerve centers on her face.

"No," the detective replied. "I don't think that's the way it happened at all. I think there's more to investigate on this matter."

"Investigate away," Leigh replied with a shrug. "You'll find nothing we haven't already told you."

"Thanks for the invitation." Tross smiled. It wasn't a nice smile either. "I think I'll do just that."

Leigh shrugged and started to head toward her bike when her cell phone jangled loudly. She sighed and pulled it from her pocket, checking the name. It was her mother. She shut the phone off, putting it back in her pocket. She hadn't been answering the phone calls all week. Her mother would just yell at her some more.

The detective raised his eyebrow. "Who was that?"

"My mother," she said. At his glance, she added just so he wouldn't look at her like that anymore. "We're not exactly getting along right now."

"Ah, so that's why you've been spending so many nights at the Carlyle's."

Leigh bristled. "Have you been spying on me?"

A smile slipped up the sharp, hawk face. "It's my job."

"Well, I'm giving you a new job," Leigh snapped before she could help herself. "Go spy on someone else."

She hopped onto her bike, pushing the kickstand out of its current position.

"I'd be careful what you said, Mrs. Bennett." His words chilled the back of her neck. "Defensive people are usually guilty."

Leigh turned and glared at him. "Well, I'm not guilty, okay?"

"Maybe you're not," the detective said. "But you know who is. And sooner or later, I'm going to get that information out of you. In fact, I give you two weeks to think about it and fess up."

"And if I don't?" she said through gritted teeth.

"And if you don't," the detective finished for her, "I'm pretty sure I can get you a nice long jail sentence for those drugs you used to—and I bet still—do. Won't that make mommy and daddy proud?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Doug slipped out of the room softly, the door clicking softly behind him. He couldn't help the smile that was playing across his features. His last exam—and he thought he did pretty well too. It had taken him a while to get back into normal shape after the job. His cheeks were still pretty drawn. He hadn't been able to eat for days after Moldowin's death.

Things had been silent for the two weeks following the event—Rollson hadn't called him once. He was starting to hope that the man had forgotten all about him. He was two thousand dollars richer and he'd had enough time to study for his finals. He just wanted to put the terrible events behind him.

A great jangling noise erupted from the recesses of Doug's backpack. He nearly jumped in fright. He slipped the backpack from his back and it fell to the ground with a soft thump. When he was finally able to move again, he reached down; touching the backpack gingerly with the tips of his fingers like it was some foreign and dangerous object. The zipper peeled away to reveal his textbooks resting innocuously against the dark fabric. There was one object he was not familiar with: a tiny silver cell phone. It had finally stopped ringing.

He lifted up the tiny object. It nestled in the palm of his hand. He didn't have a cell phone. He'd given his up after his father had died. He couldn't afford such luxuries at the moment.

A girl who was walking by gave him a strange look. He smiled belatedly and mentioned, "I can't get it to play the right ring tone."

The girl shrugged and walked on.

Doug bit his lip, silently cursing. Only a guilty party is so forthcoming with excess information, he reminded himself. Like a nervous tick.

Doug laughed softly to himself. It was a bitter and mocking laugh. He kept hold of the phone as he continued walking toward his truck. Whoever had planted it would call again. Meanwhile, he had a few things he needed to pack from his dorm before he headed back to Lampton Hill for the summer. He could sleep in the truck until he found some suitable rent.

Just as he expected, the phone jangled loudly. Doug flipped it open and pressed the talk button. He held it to his ear. "Hello?" he asked, trying not to sound too tentative. He had an image to portray.

"Like the new present I bought for you?" Rollson's voice came back to him.

Doug felt his heart sink. So much for the forgotten theory.

"It could come in handy." Doug spoke with little enthusiasm. "Long time no see—or should I say talk?"

He stepped out into the hot and muggy afternoon. A group of guys passed him, laughing and jeering loudly. Doug tuned out their voices so that he could hear what Rollson was saying.

"I thought I would give you a chance to finish up your exams before I sent you on another assignment."

"How considerate of you," It was all Doug could do to keep the tinge of bitterness out of his tone. He could feel something pressing on him. It felt like the thick and oily air from his nightmares. If he simply closed his eyes, the images would be etched on the back of his eyelids, endlessly haunting him. Blood…so much blood. And he, an evil murderer. Hurting people—some of whom had never deserved it.

He wrenched his mind back to the issue at hand.

"Yes, it was," Rollson was musing, "wasn't it?"

Doug had no reply. Conversation seemed to have petered to a close. Doug hoped it would end there.

"Are you alone?" Rollson asked suddenly.

Doug scanned his surroundings. A guy and his girlfriend were eating a picnic lunch on the front lawn. He couldn't help shaking his head. The mosquitoes were terrible at this time of year. They would be eaten alive. Just as he was thinking this, a mosquito buzzed by his ear. He swatted at it in an offhanded gesture.

"Just give me a moment." He replied as he strode across the bright green lawn toward the parking lot. His eyes squinted in the sunlight. There was only one way he could be truly alone out here. His eyes located the truck he always parked as close to the exit as possible. He moved to it, hopping inside deftly. He slammed the door shut behind him, sealing the outside world from earshot.

"Go ahead."

"First off, I want to congratulate you on your excellent work last job. I couldn't have done it better myself."

Doug sighed, rubbing his eyelids with a thumb and a forefinger. "What's the new job, Rollson?"

"Not much for conversation, are you?" For a moment Rollson sounded almost offended.

"Learned it from my old man," Doug replied. He was surprised at how quickly his good mood could turn sour. He didn't feel any need to apologize for his short tone.

"The job has to do with your sister."

"Jamie?" Doug stiffened.

"Yes. And all the other 'wolves in Lampton hill."

Doug wracked his brain for a good reply. He finally answered, sounding weak and almost frantic. "You want me to kill them? All of them? Don't you think that will attract too much attention?"

"Of course." Rollson spoke simply and plainly. "That's why I'm sending you. You've got years of experience on covering your tracks. The deaths will go down as another one of America's Unsolved Mysteries."

"You see how well it went last time," Doug replied. There was no way he was going to tell Rollson his real reason for being hesitant. He would never admit to caring about a 'wolf—to being willing to protect one with his life. He would go down in hunter history as a traitor—as someone to be despised.

Doug took a deep breath and continued. "I wouldn't take a job if I didn't think it was smart. It's about living another day to inflict more damage. My father forgot to weigh the odds more carefully and look where he ended up."

"Doug, you're forgetting," Rollson spoke with amusement in his voice, "I am the odds. With a snap of my fingers I could give you enough resources to win any fight. I'm not as strained as I was last fall. I'm picking my battles more carefully now."

Doug scratched his chin, feeling a day's growth of stubble. He chose his words carefully. "I'm wondering why their deaths are so important to you. They seem far less formidable than some of your other opponents."

"I'm wondering why you're so hesitant," Rollson growled in return.

"It's a fair question!" Doug shot back.

Rollson chuckled at Doug's daring. "Because that was my first defeat in years. It makes me look weak. The story's not unheard of in the 'wolf community. They're becoming more brazen. I even had a group try to infiltrate my base. They're all a bunch of sizzled meat now. They didn't count on the electric fence. But it won't deter them—not when someone has won a battle. I need to hit at the root of the source. If I destroy the ones responsible for the lost battle, I gain back my respect. The fights will be on my terms."

Doug shuddered slightly, glad that Rollson couldn't see him at the moment. So this wasn't just about revenge. It was about war politics. But Doug bet the man had a good deal of hatred festering in him too. Well, this man wasn't going to hook him into killing his sister. Not in his life.

"I feel for you," Doug replied, "but it isn't my problem."

"Doug, let me make myself clear: I'm going to do this with or without you. I have plenty of able bodies for the job. I was only giving you first dibs. I thought you'd like the chance to give your sister's body a good grave. My other men aren't as likely to be as kind. You must reconsider for her memory."

Doug would have slammed his head against the steering wheel if the other man hadn't been on the phone. He resisted the urge. It probably wouldn't have portrayed the right message. He took a deep breath, "I'll take the job."

And he'd have to make sure Jamie was far away from danger. Screw her friends. He couldn't save all of them without making Rollson suspicious. Jamie was what really mattered anyway.

Doug gulped hard. He didn't know how he would forgive himself after this one. Forget forgiveness, he thought. Just think about what needs to be done.

"Great!" Rollson's voice had suddenly turned genial and accommodating. "I'm so glad you came around to seeing things my way. It's for the best, you understand. I've already made arrangements for an apartment in Lampton Hill. It's all on me. And because I know how hard this is for you, I'm willing to pay generous compensation. Since the job will probably take all summer, I'm willing to pay you two thousand a month and a fifteen thousand dollar bonus once the job is complete."

Doug nodded, ready to hang up. For once he really didn't care about the money. He needed to think up a plan.

"Oh!" Rollson continued. "One more thing: I've arranged for you to have a companion of sorts to help you with your mission. His name is Grady Clark. I've instructed him that he must be the one to kill Jamie. You must not dirty your hands with that. I know how hard that would be."

Doug swallowed. "I work alone."

"Yes," Rollson agreed, "but due to the circumstances, that might not be such a good idea. You're much too involved. You may not think clearly."

There was no way he could convince Rollson otherwise. He wanted to smash the cell phone into a hundred pieces. Instead, he said a calm and curt goodbye. As soon as the phone had been turned off, he let out a loud and throaty yell. He threw the phone at the closed window and it bounced off harmlessly.

A girl fishing for her keys a couple rows over jumped in fright. Doug didn't even care. He couldn't just kill Grady. Rollson would send another man.

He muttered a plaintive wail, stuffing his face into the steering wheel. Why, when he needed a plan most of all, couldn't he think of one?


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Doug consulted the tiny map within his grasp. His condo should be on the west side of town—one of the newer buildings he'd glimpsed last fall. He turned the steering wheel with his spare hand and took the exit heading toward Lampton Hill. The other cars behind him sped on down the highway, leaving the exit far behind. Few chose to go to the little town that barely wormed its way onto the map. It had been growing a little more lately. In a couple more decades it just might become part of Chicago's suburbs, but for now it was safely serene and separate.

He caught sight of the new developments almost automatically. He'd be living in Sparkling Heights. He felt a laugh bubbling in his stomach despite his dark thoughts. Even the name sounded rich. It was still hard to think about him living in an upstanding neighborhood rather than in another rundown old farmhouse on the edge of town.

He turned into Sparkling Heights, chewing his lip thoughtfully. A14 he contemplated. It was the one at the end. That was nice to know. He didn't want to be the one in the center of the complex. Out here, he would be left pretty well alone. Or so he hoped. He had a lot of thinking to do if he wanted this to work out. He turned into his parking spot and reached for the envelope he'd found in his glove compartment. Somebody had planted it there earlier. It worried him how Rollson could make all these things appear without Doug noticing. There should at least be some trace of the person who did it. But Rollson had the money to make things runs smoothly and silently.

Doug poured out the envelope's contents into his hand. Just as he had expected there was a wad of money—his first two thousand—a gun like the one he had used on the last job, and a set of keys. There were also a few tiny gadgets as well: Surveillance equipment for Doug's use. He pocketed everything except the set of keys. He let them jingle merrily within his grasp as he hopped out of the truck.

A whiff of fresh paint caught his nose. The front porch was gleaming white. His eyes rose to check out the rest of the house and caught sight of the stranger lounging against his front door. His eyes dropped disdainfully to the pair of black leather hiking boots on the guy's feet. They were caked in mud and flakes had dropped onto his bright red welcome mat. He let out a little sigh. This was his partner—or at least that was what Doug presumed. This guy had a thing or two to learn and one of them was: keep your tracks clean or you're more likely to get caught.

Instead of moving up to greet the guy—whatever his name was—he moved around the side of the truck. He hadn't been in the state of mind to remember names before. He hefted two large suitcases out of the truck bed and carted them toward the condo. When his gaze returned again to his partner, the guy had placed his arms across his chest in a disapproving gesture.

"Aren't you even going to say hi?"

"Hi," Doug replied shortly as he headed toward the house. He dumped the suitcases near the welcome mat. He purposely allowed one a little leeway so that it slammed down on his partner's toe. The guy hopped back, his face turned molten red. He slammed a rock hard fist into the side Doug's house.

Temper, Doug noted. He's a bit of a liability. He won't think clearly; he'll make mistakes. He filed this away for later use.

"Sorry," he intoned.

"Name's Grady," the guy said once he had gotten enough presence of mind back. "Grady Clark."

"I know," Doug replied, even though he didn't. He wouldn't admit to being at any disadvantage.

He looked the guy over, trying not to smirk. Grady was a real piece of work. Sure, some intelligence shone in his grey eyes, but Doug bet his ego far outweighed his bright side. Grady wore a pair of knee-length khaki shorts and a tee-shirt with some band name Doug didn't recognize. His blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail, accentuating the length of his oblong face. His cheekbones here wide and round and he wore one of those tough guy expression.

Something bulged out in Grady's pocket and Doug was willing to bet it was a gun. Doug's own gun was safely hidden by the folds of his jacket that covered his pant leg. He was sweating in the hot and muggy air, but it was better than showing off his gadgets to the world. He didn't particularly care to get noticed.

Doug stuck the key into the doorknob and twisted. He stopped twisting midway and gave the other guy a wary glance. "You're not living here too, are you?"

He hoped against hope that this wasn't true. He didn't know how much he'd be able to stand of this guy on a regular day basis—especially when he was considering killing him if need be.

The guy waved his hands in front of him and shook his head. "No. No. I'm living five houses that-a-way," he said, pointing down the street. "Just thought I'd say hello and get some things worked out."

Doug tried not to snort at Grady's word choice. He finished twisting the key and opened the door. The door swung back to reveal a glossy wood floor and a curving staircase running along the wall. Cool air conditioning blasted him in the face. He picked up his suitcases and sidled by the larger guy. Grady moved out of the way. He'd already had his toe damaged once. Doug dropped the suitcases in the entrance and turned back to face the other guy.

"What other things need to get worked out?" He asked of Grady, leaning into the door frame.

"Yeah. You know," Grady said, floundering a little. "Like who's in charge."

Doug raised his eyebrows. "Who's in charge?" he asked, nonplussed. "Grady, there're two of us. What do we need leadership for? We weigh the options together and we figure out a good solution. We don't do anything that is going to hurt our cover, and above all: we don't act rashly."

Grady looked a little deflated. You would have liked to push me around a little, wouldn't you, Doug thought, smirking inwardly. Yeah, this guy definitely had a power trip issue. He'd met Grady's kind before.

"Hey," Grady lifted his hands as if Doug had just accused him—which he technically had. "I'm not going to blow our cover. But don't expect me to sit around when I have a shot at one of them 'wolves."

Doug lifted the object from his pocket. Doug knew what the bulging gadget was even though it just barely resembled a gun. He'd used the same kind of weapon on Moldowin. Doug hissed in warning as Grady waved it about.

"Relax, will you?" Grady complained. "There's nobody out here to see me!"

"What about the neighbor's?" Doug challenged.

Grady gave him an "oh, come on!" kind of look. "This thing doesn't even look like a weapon, much less sound like one."

Doug wanted to punch whatever lights the guy actually had in his head out. He settled for glaring at him instead. It wasn't a very satisfying alternative.

"Like I say," Grady continued, brandishing the weapon within his hands, "I'm no coward. If I get a chance, I'm going to shoot one of them. No one will be able to trace it back to me. They won't even be able to understand how the 'wolf was hurt in the first place. A couple hundred silver needles stuck into 'im. It'll be like one of those unsolvable mysteries."

Doug sighed with frustration. "Look Grady, I have to change and then I'm going on a run, so I'll see you later."

He shut the door in the guy's face with relief. He rummaged through one his suitcases and pulled a pair of track pants and a dark tee-shirt free. He changed into them as he explored the condo. It had a clean and unlived-in feeling to it. Thankfully, Rollson had made sure the place was fully furnished. After he was done changing, he grabbed the cell phone and slumped into one of the comfortable grey couches. He dialed Rollson's number and waited.

"Doug, how nice to hear from you!" Rollson answered in a cheery voice the moment he answered the phone.

"The guy's an idiot," Doug replied, not waiting for friendly chit chat. "He's going to get us both exposed. Or worse, killed."

"Come on," Rollson chided. "It can't be that bad."

Doug snorted. "The guy's a liability."

"Listen Doug, Grady's one of the best and dirtiest fighters I've got. And he's bright too. Yes, I admit he's a little hot headed…and a little full of himself, but—"

"A little?" Doug interrupted.

"Okay, more than a little," Rollson replied. "But Doug, he'll be an asset. He may not have been in the 'wolf hunting business for long, but he's fit and strong, and he's not afraid to shoot a gun at a real target. Play to his strengths. You'll work something out."

"But…" Doug began.

""Okay, great," Rollson was saying in a harassed voice. "I'll talk to you later."

The phone clicked and the dial tone hummed before Doug could say another word. He dropped the phone, wordlessly. What was he going to do know? A seasoned and predictable fighter he could anticipate, but Grady would go shooting the place up before Doug could get the chance to save his sister.

He got to his feet, stretching slowly. Only a run would cure his bad mood. And perhaps it would also get his creative juices running. He moved over to the front door and pulled on a pair of sneakers.

He opened the door and froze. Grady was still standing there, his ponytail swishing in the light breeze.

"What are you still doing here?"

"I'm going running with you," Grady replied as if this were an obvious assumption. "You can show me the target's houses so I can start thinking about tactics."

Doug shrugged challengingly, "If you can keep up."

He knew instinctively that Grady couldn't. Few humans had Doug's unchecked speed. The Colonel had made sure of that. In fact, Doug bet that Jamie could have beat this guy by a mile in the old days. Now, there was no way of telling just how fast Jamie was.

He shut the door behind him and took off at an all out run.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Doug sped up slightly. This was just a warm up for him—a chance to stretch his legs. There was just something completely blissful about feeling his sneakers pistoning against the asphalt and the air rushing in and out of his lungs. It was the best high he could ever get. He never had minded that raw feeling in the back of his throat after a few miles. He could feel the generally soft breeze sailing across his face, buffeting back his short dark hair and cooling the sweat beginning to bead across his forehead.

He'd been right about Grady. Muscled and slow. Sure, he did all right for a regular person, but he was supposed to be a werewolf hunter. Grady kept right behind Doug until they reached the end of Sparkling Heights. His footsteps began to fall behind then. They'd jogged a mile through town now and judging by the sound of Grady's thumping feet in the background, he was nearly out of sight.

Nearly just wasn't good enough. The foreign thumps were extra buzz in the back of his head. Doug found he couldn't tune them out. They were as irritating as the person who made them. Only when he was truly alone could he lull himself into a thoughtful state and be able to create a way out of this predicament.

It's all psychological, Doug thought with frustration. He used to jog with Jamie all the time. The soft patter of her feet had never prevented him from daydreaming before. In fact, the sound of her feet had only served to help the process. But Grady's thumps were more like an invasion on Doug's privacy.

He doubled his pace in hopes that he would lose the guy. For the next ten minutes, he was acutely aware that his back was exposed to Grady's sight. His heart began to thunder with the extra burst of speed. He knew he was outdoing himself. He instinctively knew he could keep up the pace for very long.

He throat no longer felt plain raw—it felt completely parched. He rounded a Burger King and dove down a silent street. The few shops that spanned the block were all closed for the day. Nothing stayed open late in Lampton Hill. A check at Doug's watch told him that it was after seven. The sun was starting to dip in the sky—which was a good thing because Doug never could have handled a run like this at midday.

He swerved down another street just as Grady rounded the previous corner. Doug kept this up for another hour until Grady's footprints had faded into the distance. Bursting out of a lonely alley, Doug slowed to a stop. He doubled over, his hands cupping his knees through the fabric and breathing hard.

It took a full minute for his heart beat and breathing to return to normal. It was then that he got a good look at his surroundings. He was on a residential street that looked strangely familiar. Doug scanned the stucco homes which appeared to be identical except for the varying colors. They would have been considered top-notch retail ten years ago. They were still in pretty good shape—nothing to balk at. Most lawns were nicely tended with carefully placed shrubbery and flower gardens. The sun had just slipped beneath one dark-shingled roof, casting a rosy glow about the periphery of the house.

Doug moved along the street, trying to remember why it was so familiar to him. It was when he caught sight of the white stucco house with a girl standing in front, her back to him, that the connection was made in his brain.

Werewolf. The alert went off in his brain and his muscles tensed involuntarily. His feet moved slightly apart to allow unrestricted movement.

The girl hadn't noticed him yet. She stood uncertainly, surveying the house. Her straight black hair fell across her back, slightly obscuring the view of her leather jacket. Below the jacket, her hips stood out nicely in a pair of snug jeans. She was curved in all the right places, but not too much so. Her build would still be considered fairly small but this did not calm the alert flashing in Doug's head. Small or not, he could count on hundreds of perfectly coordinated muscles sitting just below the skin. Like all 'wolves, she be a formidable enemy.

Doug pulled her name from his memory. Leigh. He savored the word for a few minutes, unmoving. He didn't know what he was doing, still standing there. If she turned around, she might recognize him. He doubted it, but it was always a possibility. He'd kept surveillance on her and her friends for a couple weeks, keeping as hidden as possible. And he hadn't been present when they'd fought the Colonel—he'd run after Jamie. Chances were Leigh wouldn't even recognize him.

Despite this, he should move on. He didn't want to attract attention. But she didn't appear to be moving in any direction. She just stood there, looking apprehensive. He began to walk forward, watching her out of the corner of his eye as began to move past her property—his feet barely making a sound as he stepped.

She stiffened and whirled to face him. Not quiet enough, apparently. Leigh surveyed him quickly with troubled blue eyes, as blue as a sparkling pool on a summer's day. Her expression changed slightly, as though there was something familiar about him but she couldn't figure out what it was.

Doug continued to saunter in the direction he'd begun. He slowly released the breath that he'd stoppered in his lungs. He tried to appear nonchalant. He peeled the front of his shirt away from his chest slightly, realizing that it was damp with sweat.

It was then that the sound of thudding feet rose in the background. Doug gritted his teeth, taking a glance behind him. Grady wasn't in sight yet. How had the idiot followed him through all those twists and turns anyway? It must have been a fluke. But it was Grady, all right. He would know that footfall anywhere after it had just bugged him for the past hour and a half.

No doubt the idiot still had the gun bulging in his pocket, just waiting for the whole world to take notice. And he probably had pictures of all the targets. Rollson wouldn't send him without some sort of reference.

Doug eyed Leigh again, stopping in his tracks. She had lost interest in him and was looking back at the house. She looked so small and helpless with that troubled look marring her features. Almost fragile. A worm of guilt wiggled its way through him. How could he let Grady hurt her? Because he would. Grady had made it clear that he would take every chance her could to use his gun—like a boy with his toy.

Doug sighed as the footsteps came closer. He didn't have time to think about Leigh right now. He had to worry about his sister. She was what was really important. He knew that arguing with himself was pointless. A part of Doug was determined to help her—no matter what the consequences.

He took a quick glance around for things that he could use. The sun was gone now, leaving the world in early twilight. The shadows were lengthening by the moment and the stars were winking into existence. Along the side of Leigh's house a waist-high line of well-trimmed bushes. If his eyes weren't deceiving him then there was a two-foot wedge between the side of the house and the leafy branches. Doug sincerely hoped he was correct because by the sound of Grady's feet, he was about to turn the corner. Then Doug, the street, and Leigh would be in sight.

Doug dove for the girl. She tensed just as he reached her, totally caught by surprise. He wrapped her form in a tight hold and jumped backward onto the bushes. His body rolled over the prickly surface, barely touching them before they fell—Leigh beneath him. He jutted his elbows passed her rigid form to take the brunt of the landing. It was all he could do not to make a sound as the hard-packed dirt hit his elbows. Pain lanced up his arms.

He didn't stop there or all that he'd been working for wood have been ruined. He gripped both her wrists behind her back in a tight grip. This stopped her from turning 'wolf on him because she would have broken her shoulder bones. He placed another hand over her mouth to keep her from making a sound. He felt her warm breath on the palm of his hand.

Her legs tensed then. He knew instinctively that she was preparing to kick him off. Unable to free his hands he wrapped his own legs around hers to keep her in place. She bucked hard. Dang she was strong.

He wished he could tell her that he didn't mean any harm, but Grady was in earshot now. If he said anything—even the barest whisper—they'd be caught. He just held on as tightly as he could and did his best to muffle her struggling with bated breath.

Her blue eyes shone up at him with pure feral fury. He tried to show apology through his expression but he didn't think the message made it because she was still looking daggers at him.

Grady's footsteps pounded closer until he had reached the sidewalk right in front of Leigh's house. In Doug's heightened, adrenaline-run, state, the feet sounded like gunshots. He strained with all his might as Leigh struggled. She managed to free one leg and kneed him in the balls.

He couldn't help the small hiss of pain. He caught hold of her leg again.

Dang, he was probably going about this the wrong way. But he couldn't think of a better alternative.

The sound of pounding feet stopped and instead, the sound of hard breathing caught Doug's ears. He cursed mentally. Grady couldn't have heard the sound, could he?  
Leigh was trying to call for help beneath his palm. Now was definitely not the time. He pinched her nose shut so that the noise wouldn't escape from there. Still her voice was reaching his ears—softly, but still reaching them. He felt rising unease in the pit of his stomach. He really wasn't prepared to kill Grady right now, but he would if he had to. He was afraid it would ruin what little plans he had.

For some reason, Grady wasn't moving toward them. He just stood in the same spot, panting loudly. Doug glanced to the side, trying to get a look at Grady, but he bushes were too thick.

As Grady's breathing slowed, his footsteps began again. He sauntered off at a mole's pace—too slow for Doug's liking. After a good ten minutes, Grady's footfalls fell away into the distance. Along with his footsteps, Leigh's muffled calls died away too.

She was trying to call to Grady for help, Doug thought with irony.

He was fully prepared to let her go now but before he got the chance, he felt a sharp pain on his palm. It took him a moment to comprehend and then fury burst through him, mingled with fear and revulsion.

Leigh bit him!


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Who did this guy think he was—trying to jump her? Did he think she looked like an easy target? Just too small and hopeless to protect herself? Well she'd show him. Guys like this were scum and she was going to treat him like one. He was already straining from exertion. She could feel his heart beating against hers. His eyes were like dark pools, the most defining feature in his gaunt face. They were like liquid brown and had a familiar shape. Leigh knew those eyes—almost like they were the eyes of a close friend or neighbor—but she couldn't think of where she'd see them.

She bucked again. Unfortunately, he'd held her arms behind her back or she'd have given him a nice surprise. A furry surprise with sharp teeth and glinting eyes. Even in her wolf form, her eyes were an amazingly clear blue laced with silver. The others usually ended up with yellow or brown eyes.

Leigh didn't particularly feel like having her arms ripped from their sockets. And nothing else she'd tried seemed to be working. The guy was strong. She gave him that. But he didn't know exactly what she was or just how far she was going to kick his creepy butt. She was mad and she wanted him to know just how mad. She wanted him to feel the extent of her fury.

That thought gave her an idea.

She would have preferred his soft neck over the tough skin of his hand, but his palm was ready and available for biting. She could feel her teeth forming to sharp needle points. A whole set of them. There serum sacks above her jaw were swelling with the formula. She could feel a small bit running down her teeth in anticipation.

Leigh struck.

The guy was so clueless that it took a whole second for his eyes to widen. There wasn't any pain in his expression, only mind consuming fury…and fear. Leigh was surprised to see the fear in his eyes. Maybe he did know what she was.

For a second, as the fury consumed him, she the thought he would lash out. She thought he would hit her. But he didn't. He only tried to pull away from her as fast as possible—as if she were something repulsive. Something evil.

Oh, no. He wasn't going anywhere. Two could play at this game. She locked onto him with a steal grip, pumping the serum into his veins. Once she had a better grip on him, she pulled her teeth away from his hand and struck his neck. The serum would flow faster that way. He would feel every emotion she was feeling right now. Every bit of it.

He was struggling with her. Hard. And he wasn't just some stupid human. It was all she could do to keep hold of him as he jumped to his feet. Her own feet lifted free of the ground as she clung to his neck.

Darn, she'd forgotten to put the tranquilizer in his bloodstream. She stopped pumping the serum into his blood for a moment and flicked her tongue across his neck. Now if she could only hold onto him for another minute, his strength would sap and his movements would become slow and clumsy. She hadn't given him enough tranquilizers to even partially paralyze him, but it would be enough for her purposes.

The tranquilizers didn't even get the chance to become effective before the serum started to do its work. She could feel his mind stretching and expanding with the new capacities. She bit him again, wanting to tear his throat out. She sent a bundle of fury and abhorrence at his mind just as his telepathic capabilities came into being.

She felt the message clash in his mind and roil about. She had no time to revel in what she had done because images of his life began to flash before her eyes. She clung to him, in horror and revulsion.

His face loomed up before her, angry and gaunt—even gaunter than it was now. His cheeks were sunken as he looked down at his prey he had just kicked to the ground. It was all over in a flash of silver; then he was wiping the blood from the blade. A silver blade.

There were more killings, more towns, and more stalking down dark alleys. More surveillance missions. There was an image of a woman with long dark hair and eyes just like his, except the light was leaving her eyes. He'd been the one to find her, her throat gouged badly. His thoughts were becoming Leigh's. How could he tell them? How could he tell his family that she was dying—that something had tried to kill her? And had succeeded.

"Take care of your sister," the woman managed in a shuddering breath. His mother. It was all she could say and then she was gone.

More pictures came to Leigh's mind. The guy was killing again. Hurting others. Hurting her people. He was filled with fury and anger—no true remorse in his mind as he stabbed another 'wolf. Only a pity that they had to look so much like humans.

Then he was stalking _her_. He was following her down a street with a hungry look in his eyes. He was hungry for her death. For all their deaths. It wasn't a recent event. She could see her back in the image, wearing her leather jacket and her hair lifted by the breeze. What caught her eye was a small charm bracelet about her wrist. She'd lost it months ago—probably some time before Christmas. Why hadn't he tried to kill her before? Who was he?

He didn't want to kill her. The thought burst into her head like a dawning revelation. He was trying to help…

She lost hold of the fading thought.

Help? What kind of help was this? He had tried to attack her! She felt her old anger returning and felt his mind rise to defend himself. He was trying to hide her…from someone. Someone who wanted to kill her.

Another picture rose up before her. A guy with gray eyes and a cocky smile, his blond pony tail blowing in the wind. He had a longish face and blunt features. She could feel the dark-haired guy's emotions. His frustration and anger with this other guy…Grady? Yeah, that was his name. Grady.

But who was this guy? And why should she believe him? He'd killed so many of her kind. Why would he try to protect her now? What was so different from before?

As much as she wanted to believe he was lying to her, she couldn't. The truth of his images was resonating through his mind, and in turn, hers. Besides, why would he fabricate this whole story when he could just kill her? It didn't make any sense.

_Who are you?_ Leigh posed the question. It was only fair that he tell her. He seemed to know all about her.

She could feel him pulling away mentally. It made her self-conscious all of the sudden. She suddenly realized that he must have seen as much from her as she had seen from him. She hoped he hadn't seen anything embarrassing. She'd always been a private sort of person. She had so many secrets. Most of them really weren't all that important, but it bugged her all the same.

At the same time, she couldn't help basking in the warm glow that had enveloped both their minds. It was the werewolf charm. The problem was that it had as much effect on the hunter as the hunted. She could stay here forever, just letting snippets of his thoughts flow through her head.

He pried her away from his throat suddenly and planted her on her feet. She felt the loss immediately. Their minds snapped away from each other. She let out a plaintive cry; something that she couldn't believe had exited from her throat. She tried to jump back at his neck, but he held her back.

His grip was firm and gentle, but his dark brown eyes were pools of revulsion. She couldn't understand why he would be so repulsed to look in her mind. What had he seen that was so horrible? What had she done?

"How could you?" he said in a choked voice. "How could you change me into one of you?"

Now she was mad. "One of me? Is that such a bad thing? We're not the evil creatures you thought we were, are we?" she snapped. "You saw my thoughts. You know!"

Her words didn't seem to have the desired effect on him. He bit his lip and leaned into the wall, a wave of sickness crossing his face. He closed his eyes tightly as if this would change his situation. He looked so pitiful that Leigh almost wanted to slap him.

"I'm changing," he said weakly. "I can feel it. Even now."

"Oh, stop whining," Leigh muttered. For some reason she couldn't stand to see him suffer like that. God knew he probably deserved it after all the evil he'd done. His mother's death was no excuse for all the 'wolves he'd murdered. "You're not going to turn into a 'wolf. I didn't give you enough serum. In a few days you'll be right back to normal."

Something about his crying soul struck a cord in her. She almost wanted to comfort him—to make it better. Like she could show him some good—show him that the world wasn't all bad or evil.

She suppressed the thought. The more time she spent around this guy more likely she was to end up getting killed. He may not want to kill her now, but he could always change his mind.

He was looking at her with hopeful brown eyes. He looked as though he wanted to believe her. No, he looked as though he had to believe her or the world was over. Leigh found herself getting peeved. There was nothing wrong with being a 'wolf and she defied anyone who thought so.

The guy nodded then. A short, abrupt nod. With that, he hopped over the bushes rather clumsily. He fell to his knees and cursed. Leigh hopped deftly over the bushes and tried to help him to his feet. He ignored her outstretched arms and stood slowly.

Her saliva had definitely done the trick.

She followed him as he headed toward the sidewalk at a slow and clumsy pace.

"Wait a minute," she put a hand to his shoulder to stop him. "Who are you?"

"That's funny," a new voice cut in—a voice Leigh knew well. It fit with a hawkish face she detested more than anything. She wanted to slug the detective even more than she wanted to hit this guy. Tross moved into the light of a streetlight. It was then that Leigh had noticed how dark it had gotten.

"Funny?" Leigh repeated in a snappy tone.

"Yes funny," the detective replied with a scrutinizing gaze. "I would think you'd know this young man. After all, you went on a hunting trip together."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Doug didn't know who this guy was, and right now he wasn't particularly inclined to care. He felt sluggish and tired. He'd long known from other victims of werewolf attacks that 'wolf saliva could nearly immobilize a person. He couldn't say that he was happy about his predicament, but at least he wouldn't change to 'wolf—he hoped. He was still wary of Leigh after being bitten. He'd felt the unchecked fury as she'd blazed through his mind, lacing his thoughts with discontent and pain. She'd ripped through some of his most secret memories with more mockery than…

Than what? Did you expect her to feel sorry for you? Did you even want her sympathy?

Doug stepped forward awkwardly, taking a closer look at the man in front of him. He wanted to disregard the man who was dressed in a plain pair of jeans and a sheepskin jacket. He knew better than to give in to such an urge. His body may have been sluggish but his brain was alive, brimming with activity. He didn't like the man's hawkish features and inquisitive gaze. He had the look of an off-duty cop looking for troublemakers. Doug immediately noticed the slight bulge beneath the folds of the sheepskin jacket. A gun.

He had no clue about a hunting trip but he figured he might as well play along. He felt like he was diving off a cliff. He didn't know what he was playing along with or even if he'd give the right answers. But he also knew, if he didn't answer, he'd be saying a lot more than if he did.

Pretending to ignore the man completely, Doug whirled to look into Leigh's frightened gaze. He wasn't very graceful about it, either. Leigh was going to get it for putting him in this state. But he'd worry about that later. For now, he could use the clumsiness to his advantage. Even his tongue felt heavy and rubbery within his mouth.

"Who'm I?" He slurred. "Who d'you th-think you're? I kin drink if I want!"

He got so close to her that he knew his breath was probably in her face. "I'm ol' enough."

"Okay, Doug," a hand gripped his shoulder and pulled him back a couple stumbling steps. "Get back from the girl. If you cause me any problems I'll have to write you up for public disturbance, understand?"

Doug looked at the policeman with an exaggerated shrug. I'm right, he thought. You are a cop.

"You're hard to find, you know that Mr. Vince?" Doug had a feeling the cop was talking to himself more than he was talking him. The cop's eyes ran over Doug's face with a disdainful glance. Doug did his best not to breathe too much because his breath had a cool, mint taste. If the cop wanted to give him a breathalyzer, then the ruse would be all over. "Very hard to find."

"Bin bushhy," Doug replied. "'shhides, you can' take m'in. I'm not driving."

He elbowed the cop's hand away from his shoulder for effect. Annoyance flashed through the cop's eyes. "Watch yourself, Mr. Vince."

"Detective Tross," Leigh cut in. There was defiance in her eyes, but also a little fear. Doug doubted whether Tross would even pick up the fear. Doug wouldn't have recognized it if he had never been within her mind.

The detective nodded curtly. "You two have an interesting relationship," he said with a disdainful smirk.

"Excuse me?" Leigh replied in a perturbed tone. She didn't seem to catch on as fast as Doug. The detective must have thought they were making out. If he'd seen what happened behind the bushes, he wouldn't have thought so. But the way Leigh had been clinging to him, with her mouth at his throat…he could see how the detective would come to this conclusion.

"You play a little rough," the detective added.

Blood flooded Leigh's cheeks. It was a satisfying sight. Doug had wondered if Leigh could even feel emotions such as embarrassment. She kept everything so tightly locked away. He'd only managed to glean on image from her thoughts when their minds were joined—a little girl in a pink dress covered in hearts. Her long black hair had been tied up into two pigtails and around her lips a cherry sauce was smeared from whatever she had been eating. She hardly looked dangerous at that age.

Leigh opened her mouth to protest, but Doug cut her off.

"Hey, stop buggin' m'girlfriend."

It was better this way. If Leigh denied their relationship, she was leaving a lot of unanswered questions open. Like what exactly had they been doing if they hadn't been making out. This way, the detective remained ignorant.

He took Leigh's hand, caressing it softly. There was a tinge of murder in her gaze as she turned to look at him. But her mind seemed to come to the same conclusion a moment later because she turned to look at the detective with a haughty glare. "My personal business is my own. I can date whomever I want. I'm eighteen."

"Ah, but what would your parents think?" Tross asked, giving Leigh a once over.

Doug was a guy. He knew that look. He moved closer to her, with a formidable expression. A protectiveness rose in him. He momentarily forgot to act drunk and later hoped the detective hadn't noticed. He didn't like the man's attention on Leigh. He was what—forty? It was his duty to protect her. As Jamie's friend, he told himself.

Leigh seemed to resent the way he was standing beside her, almost in front of her. She wasn't exactly helpless, Doug admitted to himself grudgingly. She was a werewolf after all. And Doug could probably beat this guy up easily so there was no telling what Leigh could do to him.

"It's none of your business what my parents would think," Leigh snapped.

The detective raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it?"

"It isn't." Leigh's hand was trembling slightly within Doug's grasp. Faint emotions were trickling from Leigh, leaving dark traces across his mind. Fear and anger, he surmised immediately. He didn't know how he was reading her thoughts now that they weren't connected. It was something to think about later. Right now he wanted to know what kind of hold Tross had on Leigh. If he had hurt Leigh at all, Doug would pound him through the wall and hang the consequences.

The detective only shrugged with a cryptic smile. "Remember our discussion last week. You know I'm waiting for an answer. I won't wait much longer."

"Discussion?" Doug repeated. Luckily, his tongue was still a rubbery mass within his mouth because he wasn't taking the time to slur his words.

"Now, Doug," Tross replied with a hawkish smile. "You wouldn't want to be prying in police business, would you? This is between Leigh and me."

Doug gave him a dark look. "My girlfriendsh bushnessh ish my bushnessh."

He felt an arm snake around his waste and then Leigh was tugging him away. "Our business will have to wait," Leigh replied. "I still have a week. And I have to walk my boyfriend home. He's not exactly in the state to do it himself."

The detective twiddled his fingers in a goodbye. Doug wanted to take those fingers and snap them until they all broke. Instead, he allowed Leigh to cart him along. He was too tired to resist, anyway.

After they'd moved away a block, Leigh whispered in a vexed tone. "I'll bet he's following us just to find out where you're staying."

Doug nodded his head in acquiescence. It was a struggle just to speak normally. "One step ahead of you."

Leigh gave him a dark look. "You are not."

"I may look like I'm drunk, but my brain's all here."

Leigh didn't dispute this fact. She mentioned softly after a few minutes. "So you're Jamie's brother? No wonder you look so familiar. You have the same eyes."

Doug nodded. "In the flesh."

Her arm remained supportively around his waist. He was glad for it as he took stumbling steps.

"Does she know you're here?"

"No."

"Are you going to let her know?"

"No."

Leigh sent him a glance of disapproval. "She misses you."

"I miss her too," Doug replied.

"Then what's the problem?"  
"My problem is," Doug said, turning to face her. His voice almost growled out of him, "that she's different now. And I don't know how well I can handle that."

Leigh snorted, taking offense.

It took them almost and hour to reach Sparkling heights, despite the fact that they were moving in nearly a straight route. Doug was becoming more and more frustrated with his uncooperative limbs.

"Did you have to make me like this?" He complained as they skirted around the light that shone out of Grady's condo. Keeping to the shadows, they edged along until they reached Doug's house.

"I had to bite you and you weren't helping," Leigh replied, helping to push him up the stairs. He grasped the rail with his left hand and helped to heave his body upward.

"I was trying to help you!"

"I didn't know that!" She let out in a breath of exasperation.

She let go of him then, as he fumbled for his keys. She turned to leave without saying goodbye.

"Wait," he said, reaching out his hand to stop her. He dropped his hand before it touched her shoulder. She turned to face him, her arms folded across her chest.

"We need to talk," he said, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

Leigh moved passed him stiffly, her shoulder brushing his. He shut the door behind them. Leigh automatically moved to the gray couch and plopped down into its depths. She stood up again, long enough to move the jeans from beneath her. Doug had draped them there earlier, while changing. Doug took the jeans from her, folding them, and plopped them over the other side of the couch. Out of sight.

He sat down slowly, his legs wobbling unsteadily.

"What do we need to talk about?" Leigh asked her arms still folded across her chest. Doug suddenly realized that she looked a little nervous. He wanted to tell her that she had nothing to fear from him. He would never hurt her. But he had a feeling that it would all come out wrong.

Instead, he said, working around his flopping tongue. "What's this discussion about? Is the detective blackmailing you?"

Leigh looked away stiffly. "I don't want to talk about it."

Working on a sensation he'd gotten from her mind earlier, he said. "I'm going to get it out of you eventually. Even if I have to tickle you."

Leigh gave him a dark look. She hated being tickled.

"It's none of your business."

"My mother's death was none of your business either," Doug replied. "But you still know about that."

Leigh just sent him a stubborn glance.

"Leigh," he nearly growled. "Just tell me."

And surprisingly, she complied. The story all came spilling out in a mess of jumbled sentences. It took Doug a moment to work through what she had said. Her hands were shaking nervously.

Doug took her hands, clasping them between his, just to stop them from shaking. He felt himself getting angrier with ever second. What right did the detective have? Was that even legal?

"So he'll charge you for drug use if you don't tell him who killed the Colonel," he finished for her.

She nodded, slumping into the arm of the couch. She placed her hands to her forehead and took in a long needed breath of air. She'd been talking way too quickly. She took a deep breath but didn't look any calmer for it.

"I just don't know what to do!" she said. "I can't tell the others. I just can't. There's nothing they'd be able to do about it. I don't want them to worry."

Doug kept her cold fingers between his palms, rubbing some warmth into them. His mind was whirring fast. He thought he had an idea. Something that just might work—if he planned it right.

"Could you do me a favor?" he asked.

She looked at him, nodding. The silver in her eyes shone brightly at that moment, almost overtaking the blue. They looked so lost and determined at the same time.

"Will you go out to the woods behind the Carlyle's house tomorrow? About a mile out? Just near the woods edge?"

"I can, but—" she started.

"Then do that. And makes sure that no one's following you."

He quickly told her his plan. She seemed to relax a little as his words rolled over her. A hopeful expression crinkled around her eyes. "Do you think it will work?" she asked.

He nodded. "I hope so. I don't think Tross is as tough as he pretends to be."

Leigh nodded, slowly moving to her feet. "I should go now," she said, tucking a strand of dark hair behind one ear.

He nodded and pulled out his key ring and detached the key to his truck. He placed the key in her long, cool fingers. She gave his a questioning glance.

"Take my truck," he said in response. "You shouldn't walk home alone."

For a moment he thought she might give him one of her feminist retorts, but she didn't. A quick smile played along her lips. Impulsively, she moved forward and hugged him. He moved his arms to hug her back, feeling a little uncomfortable about having her body pressed against his. He wasn't used to shows of gratitude this way.

"Thank you," she said, pulling back. She turned and left.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Leigh woke up with a start. The alarm clock was making annoying beeps from the dresser. She reached out blearily, barely touch the edge of the dresser. She reached across the smooth surface, but could reach her target without getting out of bed. She changed tactics, moving her hand along the wall until she felt a cord in her fingers. She yanked the cord from the socket, groaning tiredly. The noise cut short, but that was when the images in front of her eyes started to focus. She fell back against the sheets with a plaintive cry. She'd never be able to get back to sleep now.

Her mind began to brim with activity as she remembered the night before with sudden clarity. Apparently the detective wasn't their only problem. Now there was some guy named Grady who was trying to knock them off. It was the Vince's fault, she decided in a matter of fact way. There was no anger in the thought. Nothing eventful ever happened in Lampton Hill until the Vince's moved into town last October. First Bella was kidnapped and now there was a hit man after them. Yep, it definitely stunk of Vince.

Leigh was no longer angry and irritable—those emotions were usually only a byproduct of her fear. She only felt a burgeoning curiosity and something…She couldn't quite place the emotion. She only knew it rose in her every time a picture of Doug formed in her head. Understanding? Anxiousness? Protectiveness? She knew for sure that it wasn't disgust. Her accusing feelings toward Doug had slowly faded as the evening had worn on. And now? Her feelings were so muddled and confused between wanting to help him and wanting to knock him over his thick head. His mind was so haunted she only wished she could rip those memories from his head and fill them up with light and good. She'd thought her situation was bad, but it was nothing compared to what his had been. She realized that she had a lot to be grateful for.

Leigh rolled to the floor. Her feet met an endless pile of clothing and old homework assignments. Papers crackled beneath her feet. I really should clean this place up sometime, she thought. She hadn't planned on sleeping here last night but the Carlyle's garage had been locked last night. Mr. Carlyle must have locked it absentmindedly when he had come in last night from closing up the pharmacy. That left only one alternative that she could think of: sleeping at home. She would never invite herself to sleep on Porter's or Alec's couch. As close as she was to them, it would feel like an intrusion. But she'd been having sleepovers at Amber's house since she was a little girl.

She nearly stumbled over an old shoebox as she made her way to the closet. Her lightening reflexes saved her from a certain fall. She pulled a pair of jeans from the closet and pulled them up under her nightgown. They fit snuggly, accentuating her hips. She exchanged the nightgown for a gray sweater and headed downstairs. There was the drone of voices at the kitchen table.

"But do you really think it will work?" her father was saying. "If Jamie was right about this, then the detective was only tipped off by another enemy. What was his name? Rollson! So even if we get rid of all the evidence, we'll still have a 'wolf hunter after us."

"That may be," Jamie's mother was responding. "We may have to end up eliminating Rollson, if possible. But there are more pressing matters at hand. We can't afford to have Mr. Maxwell go to court for the murder of Mr. Vince. The others will be conducting the mission tonight and have asked for our help. I think it is our duty to go."

"Of course, I was never disputing—"

Her father's voice cut short as her feet padded softly across the living room floor. It was a sound no human ears would have picked up. She moved into view to see her parents eating bowls of raw hamburger. The smell was nauseating. Ground meat had always bother Leigh.

Her parents smiled at her fakely.

Ever since last fall, the parents hadn't been forthcoming with information on important events. They were still very angry with Leigh and her friends for showing up on the hillside to help battle it out with the Colonel and his men. They were probably afraid that if they let on what they were doing, the "kids" would try to interfere again. Leigh resented to condescending attitude. They were adults themselves. Her parents obviously thought her old enough to go and live on her own. How was this any different?

She feigned a smile of her own. She thought about pulling some raw chicken strips from the fridge, but she didn't know if she'd be able to eat in her present condition. She had too many things to think about: The parents dashing off on some dangerous mission, and she herself was planning on doing something very risky.

"Where have you been lately?" Her mother asked. Her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed in a thin line.

"Out," Leigh replied for lack of a better answer.

She unfolded a clean pair of socks that were balled in one hand and began placing them on her feet as her mother scrutinized her with disapproval. After a long moment she muttered almost too low for Leigh's ears to pick up. "I see…hanging out with those no good friends again."

Leigh sent her a withering glare. She would have deigned a response if it had made any difference. Her mother would flat out refuse to believe that Leigh had stopped hanging out with that no good crowd two years ago.

"Look at that truck outside!" Mr. Bennett interrupted suddenly—probably to prevent a fight. He disliked arguing in any form. "Where do you think it came from? Who just parks their vehicle in someone else's driveway and walks away without another word? I suppose we'll have to tow it."

Mrs. Bennett whipped her head around to the window, examining the vehicle for the first time. "That is odd," she commented. "Who would…"

Leigh lifted one of her fingers to draw attention to herself. "Uh," she managed, trying to keep her explanation down to as little information as possible. If she raised their interest, then she would only cause more problems for herself. "It's my friends truck. He let me drive it home last night so I wouldn't have to walk."

Too much information. That much was clear as she felt her mother's aura buzzing with curiosity and unasked questions.

"Who is this friend?" Mr. Bennett asked casually, but Leigh could feel the curiosity burgeoning beneath it.

Leigh shrugged indifferently, hoping to guide them away from the subject by feigning her own lack of interest. She was twiddling her thumbs nervously beneath the table. "His name's Doug."

"Is he a friend from school?" Mrs. Bennett posed a question at last. Leigh knew her mother could never hold her curiosity in forever.

"No." She knew immediately after she responded that she should have lied.

"Is he a college boy?"

Leigh didn't deign a response.

"Leigh, I don't want you dating college boys. In fact, I forbid it," her mother said sharply, pulling her hand through her hair in a harassed gesture. As if Leigh had in some way caused her to get all worked up. "Not while you live under this roof."

Leigh frowned slightly. "We're just friends."

"That's what you think now," Mrs. Bennett replied sharply. "Why do you think this boy has pursued you anyway? I'm sure there are plenty of beautiful college girls for him to chase after."

"Mom, it's not like that." She was trying to stay calm, but it was getting harder and harder to remain that way. She bit her lip to stop herself from saying something she'd regret.

"Boys like that," Mrs. Bennett was continuing, her voice rising an octave. "chase you because you're too young and inexperienced to think clearly. Well, I'm putting a stop to it now. I don't need any more responsibilities than I already have and knowing you, you'll wind up pregnant within a few months—and then what would I do?"

Leigh's mouth dropped open. She could not believe what her mother had just said. She almost wanted to rewind the whole moment just to see if she'd heard her mother correctly. But her hearing was impeccable. There was no mistaking what she'd said.

She was too shocked and hurt to respond. Slowly, she turned and left the room, feeling her face burning brighter than it ever had before. She was so good at hiding her emotions but her mother brought out the worst in her. Mrs. Bennett probably thought her flaming cheeks were proof of her daughter's naivete.

Gripping a pair of black hiking boots between two trembling fingers, she stepped out the door and pulled it tightly shut behind her. She didn't know the last time she'd felt so shaken and so angry. Even last night's occurrences did not compare. She slumped down on the front steps, just out of sight of the kitchen window. She dropped the shoes on the step beside her, forgetting to place them on her feet.

How could she think Leigh was like that? Leigh was far smarter than she gave her credit for. Does she think I'm some whore who'll give any guy what he wants so long as he gives me the time of day? Leigh could feel her anger rising with each thought. Well, I'm not! Leigh wasn't even ready for that kind of thing.

"I'm not a whore!" she cried out to no one in particular. The tree in the front yard was probably the only witness to her tirade.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she got a hesitant reply. "Uhhh…I never thought you were."

Leigh's cheeks flamed red again as Doug revealed himself from around the side of the house. He was quiet for a human. She hadn't even heard him—that, or she'd been too focused on her humiliation to care. "What are you doing here?" she snapped sourly. She immediately regretted her tone.

"I came to get my truck," Doug moved toward her tentatively. He sat at least four feet away from her as though he thought she was liable to lash out at him at that moment. He played with one of the shoelaces of her hiking boots.

"Don't you ring doorbells like normal people?" she asked in a softer voice.

"The less I'm noticed in town, the better. Getting noticed only brings up unwanted questions."

That was one statement she could agree with whole-heartedly.

"Something wrong?" He asked, surveying her with knowing dark eyes. Great, now she had a Dr. Laura on her hands. A very male and good-looking Dr. Laura.

"Just another fight with my mother," she responded with a sigh. "She won't trust me no matter what I do. And I'm still blamed for the drugs I did years ago as if it were just yesterday. She'll never let past faults go—she holds on to them like a bulldog. It's almost as if the day she has nothing to blame me for is the day she'll have no purpose in life."

Leigh couldn't believe she was telling him this. She never spoke about this to anyone.

"And now she thinks…" Doug said promptingly, leaving the statement open for her to finish.

"And now she thinks that if I brought some guy's truck home last night that I—" Leigh didn't finish. She just felt too embarrassed—especially since Doug was the guy in question. Doug was smart enough to figure the rest out for himself. For like the hundredth time that day, she felt her cheeks heating up. Oh! This was just so embarrassing! If Doug hadn't been present, Leigh would have been tempted to bang her head against the side of the house.

"Oh." It was his turn to act embarrassed.

Oh? Well, that's very comforting! Leigh tried not to let the sarcasm show in her face. She'd been rude enough to him as it was. It wasn't his fault that her mother thought him to be a sleazy low-life. She'd seen his mind and knew he was just the opposite. Yes, he'd done horrible things in his life, but he still had…honor.

"Parents have a way of disappointing us," Doug said after a few minutes. "I've had my share of issues too. Your mother may have a skewed and tormenting way of caring about you, but I think she does. Care about you, I mean."

He took a breath and continued, staring off into the sunrise as if transfixed. "Nobody's perfect. Everybody has his or her own set of flaws. And no matter how we try, we will all end up hurting someone in someway at some point in our lives. It's inevitable. As much as you want to change her, I don't know if you can. I couldn't change the Colonel."

Doug looked at her then, his dark eyes soft and understanding. "Just don't let it make you bitter. Take what you must from it and learn from it so that you won't become your mother someday."

Leigh somehow found his speech somewhat inspiring. She could feel the anger ebbing away to be replaced by a peaceful calm. She smiled slightly, feeling her lips quirk on the sides. "Aren't you the philosopher."

Doug snorted. "I try."

Then he was smiling back at her—a crooked and genuine grin.

She started as she remembered, tearing her eyes away from his. She rummaged through her pocket until she came up with a single key.

"You'll need this if you want to drive your truck today."

He reached out. Her heart throbbed as their hands met. His fingers brushed hers for a second and then they were gone. Leigh felt the absence.

"See you tonight," Doug said, alluding to their plans for this evening. He sent her a conspiratorial wink.

Leigh nodded and stood feeling a little flustered. Her heart was still moving to an offbeat tune. She needed to get out here before she ended up saying something stupid. She could feel thought and emotions bubbling within her like a fountain.

"I've got to get to class," she said as she turned to go.

"Uh, Leigh?"

"Yeah?" She asked, turning back hopefully.

"Don't forget your shoes."

"Oh," she said, smiling guiltily. "Thanks."


	14. Chapter 14

**For Ande's hint hint, nudge nudges. Many apologies for how long it took me to get this written and uploaded. And many apologies for this being such a short chapter. I Hope you enjoy it.**

**Thank you to Catherine, Ande, Incarnated-soul, and Sweet Bubblegum for reviewing. It's much appreciated.**

**Chapter 14**

Leigh pulled open one of the double doors and the noise was deafening. Students chattered endlessly, a sea of buzzing noise. The heady scent of too much perfume mixed with too much cologne hit her nostrils. She succumbed to the chatter, allowing her mind to drift slightly. All the distinct human smells pulled into one scent more potent than any perfume. She found herself licking her lips thoughtfully. One of them would make a nice dinner.

She threw the thought from her mind. "Darn," she muttered. "I should've eaten breakfast."

It was too late now. She couldn't go back and grab something to eat. She distracted herself by slipping the backpack from her shoulders. She perched it on her knee and rummaged for her English textbook.

A girl was coming toward her through the crowd. Her smell became distinct from among the cluster. Ah, Leigh thought, looking up to meet the girl. Someone who doesn't smell like food. How refreshing.

Jamie pulled a lock of reddish-brown hair behind her ear and said, "Where have you been? I haven't seen you for days."

Leigh snorted as she located the textbook. She pulled it free, zipping the backpack closed. "Don't tell me you were looking."

"As a matter of fact, I was," Jamie replied. "Even your parents didn't know where you were."

Do they usually? Instead of voicing her thoughts she shrugged, feeling her dark hair ripple across her shoulders. All she said was, "I've been around."

She got the sudden urge to talk to Jamie about Doug. Thoughts were bubbling around in her mind, bursting to escape her still lips, but she couldn't risk it. Doug didn't want Jamie to know that he was in town--which seemed entirely silly to Leigh. But she didn't want to risk losing Doug's friendship and trust. It would be so nice to get the thoughts that had been passing through her--turning her insides upside down and weakening her knees to jelly--out in the open. And Jamie was the person she trusted most with her personal life.

The feeling was new to her. When did she, Leigh Bennett, ever need to tell anyone about her life? She was a private sort of person and she liked it that way. Yet the notion tugged at her anyway. She clamped it away. For Doug, she told herself.

"Around?" Jamie raised her eyebrows but didn't pursue the subject further. She, like all Leigh's other 'wolf friends knew better than to push into her privacy. Most of the time. Jamie tended to pester her more than the others. But she also knew that Leigh would talk if she wanted to--which she usually didn't.

"Why were you looking for me?" Leigh asked.

"We need to talk," Jamie replied. "All of us. The others are waiting in the music room."

"Good choice," Leigh noted praisingly. No one had band or chorus first period. There just wasn't enough students in Lampton High to have a class every period. Besides, Mrs. Craton, the band director, liked to sleep in. This gave her the perfect opportunity. Plus, the band room was built to stop sound waves from passing through the walls. The group would be able to discuss things humans didn't and should never learn about without distraction or being heard.

She followed Jamie through the cluster of students, occasionally having to push some people lightly to the side to be able to pass through. This place wouldn't be so crowded if the town had considered tacking on a new section to the school. As it was, Lampton High had to be one of the smallest schools on the face of the planet.

They waded through the crowd until they found the door they were looking for. Breaking free of the students, they stepped through, shutting the door behind them. Thankfully, the deafening noise fell away.

She met three rather grim faces instead. Not the best alternative. Well, actually, two grim faces. Alec was looking cocky as usual with his laughing cocker spaniel eyes. Porter was slumped into one of the desks. Jamie pulled another desk alongside his and it scraped audibly against the floor. Amber was examining her french manicured nails, looking calmer than Leigh knew she felt. Disturbed and vulnerable emotions were flowing off her in palpable waves. All three were at least a little nervous.

Leigh dumped her backpack to the floor and took a seat. She eyed each of them again. She asked finally, "What's going on?"

Alec gave her an odd glance. "Don't you know? The parents are going to break into the police station tonight."

Oh. Leigh snapped her fingers. "So that's what they were talking about!" She spoke of her parents conversation that morning. She had known that something of that nature would occur. For some reason, it was hard for her to fall into the nervousness that the other's felt. Sure, she cared about their parents--and her own!--but she had been feeling somewhat disconnected lately. She couldn't remember the last time that her family had actually felt like a family. Besides, it was hard to distract herself from the image in her mind--the image of Doug looking down at her that morning with that philosophical look in his eyes. She felt a delicious shiver race down her spine.

She pushed the image away. They were right. This was very important. And it was callous of her to be thinking about Doug when more important matters were at hand.

"And you're worried for them," Leigh supplied.

The others nodded.

Leigh bit her lip in contemplation. "They're going to go," she said finally. "And I don't think we should stop them. If the evidence isn't destroyed, then Porter's father might go to jail for the Colonel's death."

Amber chewed her nail, looking uncomfortable. The Colonel's death always seemed to make her feel uncomfortable. Leigh couldn't blame her. Amber was a strong girl but even she had cracks the tough hyde. It's got to be hard to know that you are responsible for another person's death. Even if that person was evil. Leigh had seen Doug's mind and knew all about the pain of making a living out of other's demises.

Porter nodded. "We're not disputing whether or not they should go. What we're worried about it is whether or not they'll get caught."

"They'll be in wolf form," Leigh replied. "No one will be able to say that any them--or us--are somehow responsible."

"Just the same, we need to keep the officers away from the building or they'll ruin everything." Jamie said. "We need to think of a way to distract them."

Jamie's eyes turned up to Alec. "Did you get the information we need?"

Alec smiled and propped his feet up on the desk. He lounged back with a smile. "There are exactly five officers in the city limits. One for each of us." He named the officers off, ticking his fingers. "Dectectives Tross, Dolwin, Carter, Staves, and Tennor."

"I'll take Tro--" Porter started to speak but Leigh cut him off.

"I call Tross!" She called out before Porter could finish his sentence. Porter paused mid-sentence and shrugged. "Alright," he replied. "I'll take Staves then."

Jamie gave her a questioning glance. Leigh shrugged. "The guy and I have a score to settle. He gets on my nerves."

"Amen," Amber muttered, slowly becoming her old self again. She tossed back her golden hair and fixed her face with a daring expression. "Alec and I will take Dolwin and Carter because they're usually together."

"That leaves Tennor for me," Jamie finished. She was still giving Leigh that odd look. Leigh hated the way she was always so perceptive. She could hardly hide anything from the girl's notice. No doubt it was a trait she'd learned from the Colonel.

Leigh couldn't allow anyone else to distract Tross. If they did, they would know there was some other guy in the picture. That guy being Doug. That information would undoubtedly get back to Jamie. Then Doug wouldn't be too happy with Leigh. Besides, she rationalized, Doug and she had a job to do tonight. A job that conveniently involved the detective. They could kill two birds with one stone. Leigh had to stop Tross from ever letting on that she'd ever done drugs. She wanted to have a future to look forward to in which she didin't spend the next five or so years in jail.

She couldn't help but feel a little rumble of unease at the plan. It didn't coincide well with the parent's break-in. Doug could end up in a world of hurt.

Jamie nodded. "Alright. Good luck everybody."

On that note, everyone got up and left the room. It was somewhere around that point that Leigh started to feel a nervous acid churning through her stomach. It stayed with her throughout the rest of the day at school. It was as if the other's emotions had seeped through the barriers that hid her from everyone else and had curdled around her mind.

She really did care about the parents. Especially hers. It seemed like it would be so much easier to forget all this was even happening. Or to feel cold and distant. But Leigh couldn't make herself not care. That wasn't in her control. She was just glad when classes had finished so that she could take a long anticipated ride in the countryside. Leigh didn't know how long she spent letting the purr of the motor sooth her senses and the wind blow against her, cleansing her mind of all thought. But eventually, she knew that she had to come back. Slowly, she began to guide her motorcycle back toward town. The sun was starting to dip in the horizon, displaying a ruddy light along the outline of the hills.

Leigh parked in the Carlyle driveway. Instead of stepping into the house, she moved into the backyard. The woods behind were silent except for the sound of chirping crickets and a few buzzing mosquitoes. Leigh swatted one away from her arm.

She slipped into the woods, feeling the twigs crunch beneath her feet. She kept her ears open, listening for even the slightest sound. She was alone...or at least she hoped. There were few people who could sneak up on her undetected. She was nervous, nonetheless. She knew she should strip down before she changed to wolf. But she couldn't help feeling like there was a beady eye out in the woods, boring into her back. She knew it was probably just her nerves talking. Besides, she couldn't catch even a whiff of human scent.

She slipped the leather jacket from her shoulders and splayed it across a log. It had better be here when she got back of she would be furious. She started to lift the shirt from her body, but stopped herself. She couldn't bring herself to strip naked on the odd chance that someone might be watching. Like it would be any better for her to turn wolf if someone was in the vicinity.

She began to change anyway. Her bones started to lengthen and reverse and her body began to itch with new fur. The teeth within her mouth grew and sharpened and her senses heightened. Her mouth buldged forward, becoming a snout and her eyes slid to the sides of her head. She landed on all fours, the shirt ripping to shreds upon her back. Her jeans split along the seams. Distantly she knew that she would regret having ruined a pair of perfectly good clothes, but right now the wolf wanted to be in charge. Hunger pains wracked her stomach and there were plenty of animals to be had.

Leigh sniffed her wet nose along the ground. There was a rabbit nearby. She could smell it, hiding behind the trees. She burst forward, jaws snapping. She caught the hapless white bunny before it got the chance to escape. It died instantly, for which the human Leigh was greatful for. The wolf was still in charge, gnawing at its meal. Slowly, the hunger pains ceased, and with it, Leigh's control returned.

She darted through the words toward the place Doug had told her to meet him. It was empty and silent except for the chirping cricket. Leigh lay down in the thicket and waited. Sooner or later he would show up with Tross right in tow.


	15. Chapter 15

**It's a very short chapter, but if I added more to it, then I would just ruin it. I like it as it is. Hope you agree with me! Thanks to Ande for the review.**

Chapter 15

Doug sat on his front porch, his head propped up on the front of his closed door. He shut his eyes with a sigh. The glowing sunset made an imprint on the back of his eyelids. It was quickly replaced by the image of a dark-haired girl with gentle curves and a dark leather jacket.

Was he doing the right thing? What had he really gleaned from her mind, anyway? Nothing—except the picture of a little girl looking cute in her sundress. And that told him a total of nil. Bella had looked cute and innocent too. And maybe, at that age they were innocent.

Leigh had kept her mind so tightly barred up. He could feel the suspicion falling upon him like a thick blanket. His stomach turned over. Who would bar their mind so well, except someone who had a reason to hide?

She could have been playing sweet and vulnerable for her own reasons. She could be using him to get at her other enemies. Then she would turn on him.

He couldn't get at the reason why he had been so trusting. Sure, he was attracted to her. It was hard to ignore his male instincts—as much as he'd tried with her. She was a teenager. His kid sister's age. What kind of cradle robber did he take himself for? But there had been many times when he had wanted to…

Doug pushed the thought from his mind. What mattered was that he had resisted the impulse. And if he thought about her much longer, he'd probably drive himself insane.

The point was could he trust her? Time was running short and he had to make a decision. He opened his eyes again. They flitted quickly to a black car sitting at a condo three. The house was silent, dark. If Doug remembered correctly, it had been dark when he'd arrived yesterday. The inhabitants must be on some sort of vacation. Yet the black car had persisted to sit there all day—and Doug thought he had seen movement in the back seat.

His lip quirked. Everything was working on schedule…if he decided to follow through with it. Just as he suspected, the detective couldn't keep away. He just had to know what involvement Doug had with this situation. And Doug hadn't been very complying. He had been very mundane and boring all day.

There was a squeal down the road a bit. It sounded like a door opening and shutting. Doug glanced over and found Grady standing on his own front porch and stuffing shoes onto his feet.

Doug cursed silently. He didn't need to deal with Grady right then—especially with the detective watching his back. This could turn into a real sticky situation. Doug stood up slowly, faking and yawn and stretching. Then he turned and walked back into his house, shutting the door firmly behind him.

He pulled the cell phone from his pocket and jabbed Grady's number into his pocket. He heard the beginning of a hello on the other end and overrided it with his own speaking. "Grady," he said. "Don't come near the house. Hear me?"

Grady swore into the phone. "What are you talking about, man?"

"See that black car sitting at the house two doors from you?"

"Yeah, I see it," Grady replied in his tough guy voice. Doug could imagine his squaring his shoulders as if readying for battle. "What about it?"

Doug couldn't help but roll his eyes at the image in his mind. It was a good thing Grady couldn't see him. "There's a detective in that car."

"I'll take care of him." Grady sounded positively psyched. No doubt he had been waiting for the chance to work out his aggressions.

"No!" Doug felt his shoulder's stiffening. He wanted to curse Rollson for giving him a guy who was more preoccupied with his balls than his brains. "Listen to me, Grady. That detective is a human. We do not kill humans."

"We can if they get in the way of our mission," Grady said stubbornly. "If we don't get rid of him now, then we'll never be able to get anything done. This job is important to Rollson. Very important."

"If you kill him, then we'll have even more cops on our tail," Doug argued. It was all he could do not to snap into the phone. He took a deep breath, formulating a plan as the air was then expelled from his lungs. He'd appeal to Grady's ego—his need for control and power. "Listen, the guy's after me. Not you. I'm trapped, Grady. I can't do anything with this guy on my back. You'll have to be the one to kill the 'wolves. It's all up to you now. And if you put suspicion on yourself, the mission is over. And you know Rollson wouldn't like that."

There was a pause for a moment, and then Grady answered. "Yeah. Yeah!" He spoke like he was savoring the sound of his own voice. "Good thinking, man. You can sit at home and think up some plans. I'll do all the killing. Don't worry little head about it."

My little head has decided that I'd like to give you a knock on your thick skull, Doug thought. Instead, he said. "Great. Now I'm going to take a little jog. The detective will follow me and you'll be free to do what you like."

And if you touch my sister, I'll personally make sure you have a long and painful death. Too bad he couldn't repeat that last part out loud.

"Oh, and Grady?" He said as an afterthought. "Don't go waving that gun around. We've got to be careful from now on."

What kind of idiot do you take me for?" Grady responded belligerently.

A very big idiot. Instead of informing his partner of that fact, he decided to say goodbye and hang up. He pulled a clean pair of sweat pants from his suitcase and traded them for the jeans he was wearing. He couldn't break out into a real run in those things and he had some aggressions of his own to work out.

So he was leading the detective away from his house, he thought as he pulled the pants on. But where would he lead him? Did he really want to go through with the plans? What side was he on, anyway? He wasn't sure if he even knew the answer to that question.

Doug stepped out the door, jamming some shoes onto his feet. He took off at a light jog, giving the detective a chance to realize just what was going on. It wasn't until he was at the mouth of the subdivision that he heard the car starting up behind him. He smiled, knowing the detective couldn't see his face.

He yearned to stretch out his legs and really run. The detective wasn't far behind now. The motor was purring up behind him. Besides, Tross would catch up. He lengthened his stride, taking off at an all out run.

He ran for several miles with the car on his tail. The little black corvette turned down a couple side roads and slid around the parking lots of the downtown stores. It even disappeared for a ten minute interval, but eventually showed up in front of him turning in the oncoming direction. He found himself drifting nearer to the Carlyle house.

This was for Jamie too, he told himself. Leigh wasn't the only one who would suffer from the detective's inquiries. He had a duty to protect his sister. No matter what she had become. No matter if she was truly in that body anymore.

Plan it is, he told himself. He hoped with all his might that He wasn't making the wrong decision. He couldn't help the sinking feeling in his stomach. He could almost feel the Colonel's presence at the back of his mind, reminding him of his duty.

He realized that he was probably making one of the biggest mistakes of his life. And when this came out into the open, he wouldn't have just the 'wolves against him, but the 'wolf hunters as well. He would be a very wanted man.

Yet he was doing it anyway. And as much as he tried to deny it, Leigh was one of the biggest reasons he was going through with this.


	16. Chapter 16

**Wow! I'm so excited to get so many reviews in quick succession! Thanks to Ande, Incarnated-Soul, and Alanna 99 for their reviews. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Not the best Chapter I've ever written, but I didn't quite know what to do with it. Reviews would be nice. I like getting my fix of reviews everyday. So if you want me to write better and faster, reviewing might be the best way to make that happen!**

**Chapter 16**

He jogged past the Carlyle homestead and headed to the end of the subdivision. Then he took a left and the ashpalt became gravel beneath his feet. It crunched audibly like tiny gunshots in his ears. The black car didn't follow him--at least not right away. It continued in a straight path, rumbling off into the distance. But the detective would be back. Doug almost felt sorry for Tross at the moment. The hawk-eyed man thought he was being really sneaky, but he was about to get the surprise of his life.

About three minutes later, Doug noted the sound of spitting gravel. The detective was driving up the road at his back. It was a good thing too, because he was almost to the meeting place. He could sense something buzzing around him suddenly, like a presence. It didn't feel like just anyones' presence either. It was_ Leigh_. It confused him that he was able to feel her like that. It must have been an after effect of the bite.

As much as he had abhorred being bitten before...it didn't really deter him from wanting it to happen again. Something about it had been so amazing, so effervescent... He gave up on looking for the right word. There wasn't one in existence that could have described what he felt that night. He only knew that it had been like a drug. It made him want more.

Doug pushed the thought from his mind and strove on. The car was inching along at a mouse's pace behind him. He was only a dozen yards from the spot where Leigh's consciousness was radiating softly ahead. There was a small thicket and Doug thought he caught the sight of a single blue eye, blinking in the early evening.

Doug pulled to a stop. He let in a long, shuddering breath. The blood pumped through his veins at a thunderous rate and his heart beat like a drum. He used this moment to gather his energy and turned to face the oncoming car. He moved to the center of the gravel lane and faced the black Corvette.

Doug never would have attempted to stand in the way of a speeding car, but the detective was far from speeding. In fact, the sleek black Corvette was slowing to a smooth halt just feet in front of him. The tinted black driver's window rolled down smoothly. A face displaying hawk-like features leaned out of the window, assuming an irritable expression.

"Don't you know better than to get in the way of a moving car?"

Doug ignored the comment, panting slightly. "Following me, detective?"

The detective looked as though he were about to deny it, but then changed his mind. With a low chuckle, he shut off the engine. He clambered from the car, shutting the door behind him. He had a long and loping gait--very human in its sloppiness. His every movement displayed the weakness that prey would show. Doug felt horror growing in him as the thoughts were processing in his mind. It must have been the last of the 'wolf serum that was still running about in his veins that made him think of the detective along the lines of food. He felt a small twinge of guilt anyway.

"As a matter of fact, I was," Tross replied. He leaned against the hood of his car. "There are actually some questions I would like to ask you."

Doug smirked, hoping to psych out the detective. "Then why didn't you ask me earlier," he asked, folding his arms across his chest, "when you were on surveying my house."

The detective made a sound that was almost a growl. The irriation in his features wasn't hard to detect. Obviously Tross didn't like being bested. Especially by someone he considered to be of lower class. Doug could see it in his eyes. The detective thought him to be street trash--a guy who spends all his time getting drunk and wasting time loitering. Of course, Doug had only served to help in pushing this oppinion along with his charade the other night.

"Where's that girlfriend of yours?" The detective inquired, changing tactics.

"Keep away from her," Doug snarled. He was surprised at the vehemence in his voice. "I saw the way you were looking at her."

The detective laughed outright, slapping his hands on his beer-belly. "Son, you have no right interfering with police business," the detective replied with obvious disdain. "Leigh and I have business together and there's nothing you, or anyone else can do about it."

Tross' hand hung limply at his side, only a hair's bredth away from the gun in it's holster about his waist. There was a beady look in the detective's eye and his fingers began to stretch in anticipation. Yep, Doug decided, in the detective's eyes he was worse than street trash. In fact, he thought Doug stupid enough to start a fist fight with a police officer.

Doug would only do this if the situation warranted it. And right now, it didn't.

"Firstly," Doug began, folding his arms across his gray tee-shirt, damp from sweat. "Don't call me son."

"You'll not be making the orders around here!" The detective replied irritably.

"Secondly," Doug continued, ignoring the detective's outburst. "We do have something to discuss. That is why I have brought you here."

Doug could swear he saw the detective shudder just then. Good, he was starting to see where the power really lay. Just who exactly was in charge of this little meeting.

"You didn't bring me here," the detective continued stubbornly, his hand moved to rest directly on the holster. He looked Doug straight in the face with his hawkish eyes.

"No?" Doug raised his eyebrows. "Then tell me, detective. How did I know you were surveying my house? How did I know that if I jogged down here you would follow?"

The detective had no answer for that. He straightened, moving his bulk off of the car so as to better move if the situation warranted. His thin legs were quick under his round belly. But not quick enough, Doug noted. He still had the upperhand by a large margin.

"Not that I'm going to comply, but what do you want?"

Doug lifted a hand, displaying two fingers. "Two things," he replied. "A, I want to destroy all information you have on Leigh's past drug abuse."

The detective burst out laughing at this. Doug didn't flinch. He waited for the laughter to die before he continued.

"And B," he stared the detective down, "I want you to get your nose out of our business. Stop following the case or you're going to regret it."

"Are you threatening me?" Tross almost hissed. "A police officer? I could have you arrested for this!"

Doug moved a step closer to prove that he was not intimidated by the man. "How are you going to prove it?" Doug spoke, nearly taunting. The more sure he was of himself, the more Tross would begin to worry. "It's your word against mine in court. And I have some friends in pretty high places."

"What, like your druggie friends?" Tross smirked. "Why don't you give me a good reason why I should drop this case? If I solve this case, it could be my next big promotion."

"You want a good reason?" Doug replied. "I'll give you one. You wouldn't be able to handle the truth if you ever found out what it was. Just drop the case. My dad died and for good reason. Yes, I loved him, but it was his time to die--before he hurt anyone else."

"You know what really happened," the detective's eyes glinted. "You know who killed Mr. Vince."

"I know a lot of things," Doug replied darkly. "And one of them is that you are way over your head. I am far more powerful than you can ever imagine. And if you keep this case up, it will be my duty to kill you."

Tross was now gripping the handle to his gun and glaring at Doug menacingly.

"Powerful? You? You're just a junkie who's wasted his life away. A twenty-four-year-old teenager who doesn't know the meaning of the word powerful."

Doug laughed. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"You couldn't get away with my death," Tross slid the revolver out, letting it hang in his hand. He specifically held it so that Doug could get a good glance. The thing he didn't know was that Doug could have wrested it from his grip before he could move a finger. "You would be in jail for the rest of your life."

"Only if I killed you myself," he replied. "But how about if I got the animals of the forest to do the job for me? Then they would just call it a wild animal attack."

Doug noticed a rustle in the tall grass at this comment. Leigh was getting ready.

Tross shook his head disbelievingly, "You're insane!" He accused. "I always thought there was something wrong with you and now I know what it is! You're totally and completely insane!"

I low growl rustled through the grass and sped toward their ears. Doug noticed the detective flinch at this. He tried to take a glance to the left without taking his eyes off Doug. He wasn't quite managing it. Doug wasn't quite so restricted. He turned his head to watch as Leigh slunk out of the grass, her fangs flashing white. He could hear everything the detective was doing and react accordingly.

"Just like this," Doug said, a small smile playing along his lips. "I can call the wolves to do what I want."

"A fluke." Doug could hear the shudder in the other man's voice.

"You think?" Doug replied. "How about if I give her a command?"

"Lift your paw," he suggested.

The wolf let out a snort. A deep blue eye looked out at him with intelligence. That was the first time Doug ever saw a 'wolf roll it's eyes. The same obviously went for the detective as well. Doug could see him get a big case of the willies out of the corner of his eyes. Slowly, Leigh lifted a paw. Tross' eyes positively bugged.

"Bite him in the nuts," Doug continued calmly, as though he were talking about the weather.

Leigh looked as though she were glad to comply. She growled loudly, baring her teeth and ran for him.

A shot rang out loudly. Leigh fell to the ground, wincing sharply. Doug cringed. He had to remind himself that this was all part of the plan. Leigh knew that she would probably get shot and she'd agreed to it. If he didn't have to act so dang calm and complacent he would have run to her.

Slowly, the gray wolf stepped to her feet, bearing a wide gaping wound in her chest. Blood dripped down her fur. The wound closed up within seconds, displaying pink flesh. The fur grew over the skin, hiding it from sight. It was as though it had never been there in the first place.

The detective's hands were shaking as he attempted to pull the trigger again. Darn him, but he couldn't just stand here while Tross took another shot at Leigh. He turned smoothly and kicked the gun from the trembling fingers. The revolver bounced once and skittered across the gravel to rest against the wheel of the Corvette.

"As you can see," Doug said loudly, to catch the detective's attention. The detective seem more preoccupied with Leigh and finding his gun at the moment. "Bullets won't hurt my animals. I have the power to heal them."

Doug caught the back of the policeman's jacket as he lunged for the gun. He pulled him backward roughly and turned the man to face him. The detective's eyes were wild with fear. He shook him for effect.

"Now I don't want to kill you," he hissed, "but I will if I have to."

Tross was stuttering incoherently but Doug had the feeling that his mind was all there.

"Do we have a deal?" Doug asked, gripping the front of the man's jacket tightly.

Before the detective had the chance to respond, and angry shout echoed down the road and through the trees.

"Traitor! You were on their side all along! I'm gonna kill you, you werewolf lover!"

Doug glanced up to see Grady striding toward them, holding a bulging object in his hand. On his face was a look of pure and unchecked hatred.

Doug's eyes widened. He swore on a breath of air. He hadn't heard him coming! In fact, he hadn't noticed Grady following him at all. He had been too preoccuppied with Leigh and the detective. It was inexcusable. He knew better than to focus his attention.

He swore again. He was going to have to kill Grady. And even that probably wouldn't be enough to keep his secret hidden. The whole hunting world would know that he, Douglas Vince, was a 'wolf lover.


	17. Chapter 17

**Okay, so I have one request: review. If my stats are any indication, then there's a whole ton more readers than reviewers. Since I should be spending more time on school work, I think I'll take my sweet time about writing chapter 18. Although, reviews would induce me to write a little faster! Hint, hint. Gotta get my fix: Reviews!**

**Chapter 17**

He couldn't believe this was happening. More importantly, why hadn't Leigh noticed? He wanted to slap the palm of his hand to his head, but now wasn't the time to beat himself up or he'd end up dying. And more importantly, Leigh might too. He was so surprised that he cared so much. Ever since he was little, the Colonel had taught him to look after number one first. Everyone else came second.

In one smooth motion, Doug kicked the detective in the back of the knees. Tross buckled, falling against the side of the car. At least he would be out of the way of jetting silver spikes. Helping Tross was like an automatic reflex. If he could help it, the detective wouldn't get hurt--even if he was a sleazebag.

He moved to grab Leigh and pull her to a safer position, hidden behind the Corvette but she was already diving behind the car. Her body hit his and he toppled back, the air exploding from his lungs. He hit the ground hard enough to let out a muffled "oof". Her tail lashed against his leg furiously. Doug caught the frantic look in her eye. A powerful whine exploded from the silence. There was the sound of shattering glass. Tinkling objects fell from the sky, pitting his face and arms. His torso was only protected by the large furry animal that was planted on his stomach.

"Hey!" Tross was crying out suddenly. Seeing his car being attacked by a thousand silver needles wasn't sitting well with him. His eyes had focused and his mind seemed to be whirring, taking in the possible ideas. Doug immediately wrote him off as helpless. Sure, he could possibly be useful in a fight, if you needed an intimidating police officer with sharp voice and piercing eyes. However, Grady wasn't likely to be intimidated by anyone. Least of all, Tross.

Slipping out from under Leigh's weight, he gently placed her to the side. "Stay here," he whispered on a breath of air. "If he comes around the side; run. Don't look back." She gave him a sarcastic and disbelieving glance with one midnight blue eye. The look clearly meant. "You've got to be kidding if you think I'm going to leave you to save my own skin."

Doug's ears were too focused on the sound of crunching gravel to give her a reply. Grady's steps headed toward them slowly, methodically. Grady's head was clearly working ahead of his balls. Now: the one time Doug didn't want him to use his head. There was a certain stalking grace in Grady's steps, but he couldn't muffle the sound of the gravel altogether. Gravel was a tricky thing to quieten. Doug knew this from experience. Luckily, he himself had had lots of practice in that venue.

He flitted around the car in the opposite direction from the one in which the soft footsteps were leading. He had to catch Grady by surprise and knock the gun from his fingers. The weapon would be just as deadly to him as it would be to Leigh, if it hit him correctly. Leigh was hot on his tail, her soft fur brushing up against his side as she slunk in next to him.

"You can't hide forever, Doug," Grady's voice was eerie; almost silky. Like a cat playing with a mouse. A cat that knows he has a certain advantage. Doug only wished that he'd brought along some sort of weapon. He didn't bother to reply to Grady's taunt.

Grady was just opposite of him. Doug ducked his head under the car to check for a pair of feet. There were two white sneakers on the other side and then a pair of knees as Grady kneeled down. One thing a hunter has to realize eventually is that kneeling down is a very vulnerable position. It didn't allow for quick and unrestricted movement like Doug's crouch.

Doug didn't think. He acted as Grady was bringing the gun underneath the car to shoot at their feet. Doug sprung into the air, propelling himself to the roof of the Corvette. He faintly noticed the cold metal of the roof as he rolled over it and plunged over the other side, hands and feet first. The whine of Grady's gun went off just as Doug was falling.

Doug thought he heard a wolf's yelp.

Doug brought his knees in at the last moment, jarring Grady in the small of his back. Grady fell onto his face but he didn't lose hold of the gun. He kept squeezing of the trigger and the whine continued as he moved his hand wildly, turning the tires to putty. Doug slammed his fist into Grady's wrist and the other guy dropped the gun reflexively. Doug gripped the bulging object and threw it down the road before Grady could react.

Grady took that moment to heave Doug from his back. Doug fell to the side, landing softly on his feet. Grady jumped to up, swinging his fists wildly. His ponytail flew out behind him in a rage. Doug knew instinctively that Grady had the advantage in weight and strength. He was going to have to use his speed to his advantage. It was the one thing he did have.

Doug began hopping on his feet to distract Grady from noticing any subtle movements of his muscles. He didn't dare give away any hints to his next moves. He suddenly jumped forward, driving his fist into the larger man's stomach before he could react. Grady doubled slightly and then went for him. Lucky for Doug, he had already jumped back a distance.

Grady was letting out some pretty wild punches, but Doug knew if he happened to get hit, it would most likely be all over for him. He ducked and twisted artfully as Grady continued to advance toward him. They had moved a good distance away from the car now.

Doug tried to focus most of his attention on Grady's muscles, trying to discern his every move. He was doing pretty well now, but eventually he would wear out. He only hoped Grady would wear out as fast or faster than him. He caught sight of a skulking gray shape moving up behind them. Leigh's teeth flashed and she let out a soft and feral growl.

Doug wanted to tell her to keep out of this. He could handle Grady—but not if he had to pay attention to everything she was doing. A small part of his brain was trying to assure him that Leigh could take care of herself, but the stronger and more demanding part of his mind pushed this thought away almost immediately.

He dodged another fist and slammed his own fist into Grady's nose. Blood spurted. His hand stung from the action. Grady was not deterred in the least.

"I'm going to make you suffer for every wolf you've ever saved," Grady told him with a furious glint in his gray eyes. He meant every word of that statement. "People like you don't deserve to exist. Every wolf you save is killing our people off one by one."

Doug didn't deign a reply—not to Grady, at least.

He turned half his attention to the wolf. "Leigh, get out of here!"

Leigh ignored him. She dove forward, sinking her teeth into Grady's leg. Grady let out a cry and kicked backward explosively. Leigh just didn't way enough. She was jolted back and forth by his foot and finally he was able to get enough force behind his kick to make her fly loose. She flew backward through the air, slamming into the rear of the Corvette with a loud yelp.

Doug cringed, feeling waves of pain released from her.

Then something was driving toward his face. It was a fist and suddenly it was too late to dodge, but Doug tried anyway. He probably only saved himself a little pain by propelling his body faster. The fist drove into his face, serving to quicken his fall to the ground. Doug saw a flash of white light, his teeth jarring within his mouth. He tasted something coppery and knew it was blood. He landed on the ground just to have Grady's foot slam down on his ribs.

"You are going to die, Vince," Grady said through clenched teeth. Slowly his jaw relaxed to turn into a deliberate and mocking smile. "I always knew I was stronger than you. Smarter too. You don't have a prayer."

Doug only glared back, feeling like a cornered animal. He could still feel Leigh's pain faintly in the background of his mind.

"Then I'll take you with me," Doug replied darkly.

Grady laughed. "I don't think so."

He lifted his food above Doug so all Doug could see was the bottom of Grady's shoe. The shoe slammed into his face, and his nose spurted forth blood. Doug ignored the pain, bringing up his legs to kick Grady between the legs. Grady cried out loudly but this only made him angrier and more determined. He slammed the same foot down on Doug's ribs and he heard a cracking sound. Doug took in a sharp intake of breath. The pain was almost consuming. There was a flash of red before his eyes.

Grady jumped down on him, his hands groping for Doug's neck. He found it and applied pressure. Doug took a difficult and gasping breath. He weakly punched Grady in the chest, but it barely did any damage. He pummeled him with his fist desperately as black dots began to appear before his eyes.

Then a shot rang out. For a moment, Doug thought Grady had found a gun and shot him. Then he realized that Grady couldn't have because his hands were still around Doug's neck, squeezing. Slowly the hands slackened and he took in a long gulp of cool fresh air. Grady slumped forward onto Doug and the world disappeared under his bulk.

Doug managed to push Grady to the side, realizing there was blood all over his hands. All over his shirt too. He looked up to see a hawk-eyed man standing over him, a gun wavering within his grasp. It was probably the one Doug had extracted from him earlier.

Doug slumped back breathing hard. Leigh growled thumping her tail against the gravel.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Tross managed, looking sick. "But are you alright?"

Doug laughed weakly. "I'll live. But I'd appreciate it if you'd point that gun in some other direction."


	18. Chapter 18

**Okay, so I couldn't resist writing another chapter. But next time... Reviews please!**

Chapter 18

The world was losing its perfect clarity. Images swam before Leigh's eyes, never fixing for more than a few seconds. She dimly realized that she was still growling at the detective but couldn't seem to make herself stop. The wolf in her was starting to take over. The wolf was feeling cornered and hurt. It wanted to lash out. She fought it. She was winning--at least for the moment.

Leigh glanced down at her bloody paws along her long snout. Grady had managed to get a shot at her under the car. Little bits of silver were embedded in her flesh along her hind legs and paws. They were big wounds, but they wouldn't close either. The silver had bound to her blood platelets, making it impossible for her blood to clot. She was losing a lot of blood and knew that she wouldn't be able to stay conscious for that much longer.

Luckily, she had a smal vial of TryptoKeri in the pocket of her leather jacket. She'd kept one with her ever since the last disaster. She hadn't felt safe to go around without one. It gave her an added measure of safety in case something bad occured--like today. The only problem was that her jacket was still back in the woods. She was sure she could get there before she fainted but she couldn't leave Doug.

That man was still standing above him, holding the wavering revolver in Doug's direction. She was too confused to remember exactly who this guy was or what kind of threat he posed for her. All she knew was that he was threatening Doug, and she couldn't have that.

She let another low growl rumble through her chest and escape her lips.

"I'll make you a deal," the man was saying, sending a shifty glance in Leigh's direction. "You call off the beast, and I'll lower the gun."

That sounded like a fair enough deal to Leigh, although she was miffed about being called a beast. She sent one last growl in his direction for the comment and sat back on her haunches. It was good to be able to sit back and rest for once. Leigh could feel the strength sapping from her muscles with each second. She was trembling slightly from the fatigue.

The man still hadn't lowered his gun. "I should be shooting you right now," he continued, with a tiny bit of reserved anger. "It's not as if you wouldn't do the same to me. Besides, you've given me a lot of trouble.

Doug snorted audibly and then winced in pain, holding his ribs. Leigh watched his face contort and felt the pain through the connection between them. Her vision went red for a moment. Leigh hung on to conciousness until Doug's wave of agony passed. She growled, wishing that Doug knew how to block his pain. It was only common courtesy in the 'wolf world to block your pain from the pack. But Doug was very new at this and more human than 'wolf.

Slowly the pain subsided and Leigh's vision came back.

"So why haven't you killed me yet?" Doug rasped.

"I suppose because you tried to save my life," the man acknowledged and slowly lowered the gun to his side. Detective, Leigh decided. He was a detective. "And besides, that guy seemed more dangerous than you."

"Glad you think so," Doug replied, and wiped the blood on his hands onto his shirt. He slowly moved into a sitting position, propping up his hands behind himself so as to keep his body in a sitting position. Leigh wanted to move to him as she saw him waver slightly, but was too tired to make the effort.

"So are you going to tell me what's going on?" The detective asked with a guarded look in his hawk-like eyes. He nudged his head toward the dead man. "Who is this guy?"

"Grady," Doug replied.

"And you betrayed him?" the detective inquired.

"Yes," Doug replied. "It was the right thing to do."

"Does this have anything to do with your father's death last fall?"

Doug shrugged his shoulders lightly. "In a way. I'd appreciate it if you didn't ask anymore questions," he continued. "I don't think I want or will be willing to answer them all. I hope you see that this is no ordinary case--that it's better left alone."

"No case is better left alone," the detective replied stubbornly. His manner toward Doug was becoming more sharp. Leigh growled, earning a perturbed glance from both the detective and Doug. Doug's look told her that he didn't want her to interfere. He was handling this. She hated it the way he always thought he knew how to do everything right. His plans went just as badly as hers sometimes. Take tonight for example.

Leigh knew she should take a little share of the blame. She should have been keeping her senses open for intruders. Grady had walked right up on them and she hadn't even noticed--even with her superior sense. She had been spending too much time paying attention to the detective and the plan. In addition, it was really hard to pay attention to anything but the pain after she had just been shot by the detective. But that was no excuse.

"This case is better left alone." It looked as if Doug was losing his patience too. "Believe me when I say you couldn't handle the truth if I spoon fed it to you."

The detective didn't appear to like this remark. Irritation crossed his angled cheeks and he looked as though he had the high mind to point the gun back in Doug's face. The detective took a deep breath, closing his eyes. After a moment, he jammed the revolver back into its holster.

He took another look at Leigh. She shuddered under his searching gaze. Then he turned back to Doug. "You called the wolf Leigh," he accused.

Leigh's heart rate doubled. She tried to focus her eyes on the detective. It was impossible. Her vision was getting even worse. At least she could still focus her attention on what they were saying. Dimly she realized that she needed to get to the TryptoKeri fast or she might never get to it. Of course, the wolf in her didn't care about things like that. It just cared about being cornered between the side of the car the the detective. The wolf didn't even seem to recognize the fact that the detective's gaze wasn't even focused on her at the moment. The wolf just knew that the detective was falling upon knowledge that was no good for it. Knowledge that might hurt it. The wolf attempted to take over her mind again. Leigh held on for all her might, feeling her strength slipping.

Doug frowned at the detective. "No I didn't," he denied. "You misheard me. I named the wolf Leo."

The detective shook his head stubbornly. "No, I heard you. Clear as day. But if this is Leigh, that means..." It was as though the information was suddenly becoming significant in Tross' mind. She shuddered, looking a little sick. He finished finally. "It means that Leigh is a werewolf."

Leigh waited for Doug to deny this statement. Doug did just the opposite, a tired look crossing his gaunt features. "Very good," he almost snapped. "Any more insights of the day, detective?"

"And your father was a werewolf hunter," The detective continued, putting two and two together.

"One of the best," Doug replied.

"Yet you think it's a good thing that he died?" The detective's eyebrows rose.

"Yes, I do," Doug groaned. "Now can you quit with the third degree?"

The detective sighed. "I suppose I can question you later."

"No you can't," Doug replied sourly.

"But for now," the detective said, choosing to ignore Doug's comment. He reached over to give Doug a hand, pulling him to his feet. "I can take you home--or to the hospital. You're not in good enough shape to walk back to your house."

Leigh had a good view of Doug's legs as he replied sharply. "No hospital! I don't want any records that I ever lived in or visited Lampton Hill."

The detective looked taken aback by this outburst. "But what about the police report? There's a dead man."

"You figure it out," Doug replied. "You're the one who shot him--and don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to be alive. But I can't have any involvement in the matter. In fact, it would be even better if you'd delay releasing information on this case. You have no idea how important this is."

"That's because you won't let me!"

Leigh slowly got to her feet. A wave of vertigo his her and she lost her vision completely for a couple of seconds. Slowly, in little dots, the world began to come back. She would let them argue all they wanted. She had more important things to worry about, like the wolf pawing frantically at the back of her mind. She took off at a quick and stumbling pace, dashing into the woods.

"Leigh!" Doug called after her.

Leigh didn't stop. She continued onward in the direction of her coat. She nearly bumped into a tree that was swimming in the side of her vision. She barely grazed it and moved on. Black dots were dotting her vision again. And she was afraid that they wouldn't leave this time. She dove on, hopping over a muddy section of land and headed through another stand of trees, feeling tiny bushes and scraggly bushes bounce off her sides and brush along her feet.

There it was. She could see the leather coat through her tunnel vision. She hopped forward, changing as she rushed ahead. The wolf resisted the change and she fought with all of her might. Slowly, the fur began to tuck into her flesh and her backbone lengthened and moved upward. Her snout slid back into her face and she tumbled forward, human and practically naked.

Her vision swam wildly and her stomach heaved. Blood everywhere. Her blood was all over the forest floor, dotting the leaves. She wretched out her last meal to the side, conscious enough to keep the mess away from her precious leather jacket. Her vision was completely black now. She moved her hand across the smooth forest floor until she felt her fingers spread across the cool leather. She moved automatically for the jacket pocket, feeling a hard object under her hand. It felt like a cell phone. She rummaged further.

She felt her consciousness drifting. She gripped another object, pulling it free and opening it. She felt drips falling onto the skin of her legs and she unsteadily brought the container to her lips. She downed what was left of it and fell back against the leather jacket. She could still feel the blood running out of her feet. Another wave of nausea passed over her and suddenly she couldn't focus any longer.

Leigh fell into oblivion.


	19. Chapter 19

**This quick update is for your request, Ande! And you, incarnated-soul and SweetBubbleGum. And thanks to Alanna99 for the earlier review and putting me on her favorites list. You guys are great! Hope you enjoy it. To everyone else: Please! Please Review! You will absolutely make my day. A great thanks to my avid readers.**

**Chapter 19**

Doug kicked off the tangled sheets, sending another spasm through his rib cage. He waited it out, cringing. He just couldn't sleep. He hadn't liked the way Leigh had run off into the woods trailing bloody footprints. He had wanted to chase after her—to make sure that she was okay. The detective hadn't let him and for good reason. Doug knew that he wouldn't be able to handle a walk through the woods. He could barely walk upright without feeling a lance of pain moving up his side.

She's just fine, he told himself. She probably just left to go home. She was tired. Besides, she'd heal quickly. A lot faster than he. Still, it bothered him the way her feet had still been bloody. Maybe she hadn't had enough energy to heal quickly.

He propped himself up on two elbows, viewing the dark room around him. Long thin lines of light penetrated through the slats in the Venetian blinds to fall across the bed. It was the only light he had but he'd adjusted to the darkness hours ago.

His parting with the detective was still nagging at him. He didn't like how quickly the detective had picked up on the situation. He knew what Leigh was now. He hadn't expected the detective to figure it out so easily—especially because Tross was so dense when it came to understanding personality types. He had immediately written Doug off as a ne'er do well. A drunken loser.

They hadn't exactly parted on a good note. Tross had been rather miffed that Doug wouldn't confide in him, especially since he had just saved Doug's life. There was also a lingering suspicion in the detective's eyes. He was still mistrustful of Doug and Leigh. Doug wouldn't have expected anything else, but it made the detective a wild card. He could go either way.

It would have been so easy just to let the whole story pour out. It would have been nice to let that information rest on someone else's shoulder's for once. It was getting hard to keep it all pent up inside. But Doug wasn't quite ready to trust the detective. Tross had his own goals in mind, his own aspirations. Sure, he would help them if it suited his purposes, but it was clear to see where his loyalty lay. With the police department and his own advancement, Doug thought a little bitterly.

Rubbing the sleepy dust from his eyes, Doug finally decided to give up on sleep for the night. It wasn't going to come no matter how long he lay there. Usually when he couldn't sleep, he would go for a run. That was completely out of the question for the time being.

He rolled out of bed, his knees hitting the floor. Slowly, he groaned to his feet and shuffled down the hall. He never should have taken his attention off of Grady—not even for a moment. Now he was paying for it. And if the incident ever got to Rollson's attention, Doug wasn't exactly in the condition to protect himself. He could only hope that the detective would keep his mouth shut until Doug could figure out a way to resolve this issue.

Grady wasn't the real problem. Rollson was the problem. And until he was unseated, he and all the werewolves in Lampton Hill could never believe that they were safe. Rollson would always come back for another jab. He had a score to settle with them. Doug too: because he was now as much a part of this as Jamie and her friends.

The stairs were the hardest part to navigate in the whole house. It must have taken him more than five minutes just to work his way downstairs. He swallowed bitterly. In his present condition, he was no help to anybody. He crossed the floor to the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards until he felt his fingers clasp around a glass. He pulled it from the cupboard and unsteadily splashed some water into it from the sink. He took a long swallow, eliminating the bad taste from the back of his throat.

Doug thought he heard a rustling sound. He knew better than to think it was a tree branch rubbing against the back of the house. It was coming from the French doors just beyond the dining room. It almost sounded like claws scraping down the side of the house. He peeked his head through the kitchen door with bated breath.

He couldn't see anything from this distance—even though it was a lot lighter outside. The moon was high in the sky, pooling soft light against the oak table. Doug inched forward, moving to a crouch. It was nice to get out of that upright position anyway. It only made his ribcage feel worse. He took hold of a chair to steady himself and looked forward toward the French doors.

There was a long dark shadow and a single, midnight blue eye staring in at him. He nearly gave himself a heart attack with his sharp intake of breath. Slowly his heartbeat slowed as he realized exactly what he was looking at. It was a great majestic wolf with soft grey fur, tail thumping against the glass impatiently.

Doug moved to the door and opened it. "Leigh," he said as the wolf darted in between his legs and moved into the house. He tried to get a look at her paws, but she was moving to fast for him to get a chance. He was sure of one thing: she wasn't trailing blood any longer. She was carrying something large and black between her teeth. She dumped it on the carpet as she stopped in the living room. Doug realized that it was her leather jacket.

She took bounding steps, hurrying up the stairs and disappearing out of sight.

"Leigh?" He called after her. She didn't answer. With a sigh, he moved toward the couch and slumped into it. He didn't know what she was up to, but he didn't have enough energy to care. He was glad to have the relief seep through him, tumbling down his previous anxieties. She was okay. She was going to be okay. And thanks to her wolf blood she was probably already healed.

Doug leaned over to the wall, fumbling for the light switch. He found it and flicked it on. She squinted against the onslaught. He hadn't been ready for that blindingly radiant glow cast from the ceiling. Slowly, his eyes adjusted and he was able to see clearly.

He could hear the whisper of steps coming down the long hall and he looked up to see Leigh at the top of the stairs, resting against the banister in completely human form. He noted that she had taken the blanket from his bet and had wrapped it around herself. Her head was all that could be seen beyond the blanket. Her lustrous dark hair fell down her back, a complete contrast to the white quilt. Her blue eyes were weary and concerned and she was chewing on her lip—the way she did when she had a mission in mind.

Doug found, to his embarrassment, that his eyes were traveling lower. He snapped them up to her face, feeling his cheeks color slightly. He had a really hard time not thinking about what was beneath the blanket. She's your sister's age, he told himself. He had to repeat that thought a few times before he was able to pull his mind from the gutter.

"Do you have anything I could wear?" she asked.

"Hmm? Oh. Yeah." Great Doug, he scolded himself. Now she probably knows exactly what you were thinking. He got to his feet and moved to the suitcase that was still sitting on the living room floor. He wasn't exactly the best housekeeper. He unzipped the pack and rummaged inside trying to hide his guilty expression. He pulled a pair of his plaid pajama pants free. They had a band about the waist so at least they weren't likely to fall off her. She was several sizes smaller than Doug and for good reason. He also pulled a rumpled gray tee-shirt free, holding them up with a wince.

"Will these do?"

She moved down the stairs toward him, nodding. She was still chewing her lip in that cute way she always did. He didn't think she was aware that she even did it. She reached one hand out from the depths of the blanket and accepted the two items, her fingers brushing his lightly. There was a crackle of electricity and his heart thumped oddly.

"Umm," he said to distract himself, nodding toward the bathroom to the left of the living room. "You can change in there."

As soon as she had left the room, Doug moved back to the couch, pressing his face into the sofa back. He let out a nearly inaudible plaintive note and would have hit his head against the wall if Leigh hadn't been within hearing distance. Great Doug, just batter yourself some more.

Doug took a deep breath and pulled his face away from the cushioned back. "So what are you doing here?" he called out, trying to sound normal.

Her voice was muffled through the bathroom door, but it carried well enough.

"The Carlyle's house was dark and locked by the time I was able to get there," she called back. "I didn't want to wake them up and I couldn't think of where else to go…so I came here."

She sounded a little hesitant.

"No, you were right to come here," he answered her unasked question. He added before he lost the nerve. "You can take the bed. I'll take the couch."

Leigh's peeked through the bathroom door, her hair falling across her cheek. He couldn't quite understand the look she was giving him. It was somewhere in between relief and…what? Disappointment? He shook the thought from his mind. Leigh had never given him any reason to think she was interested in him.

She moved out of the bathroom, the baggy soft cloth accentuating each curve. The pants covered her legs in folds.

"How are you feeling?" She asked.

So it wasn't disappointment. It was concern.

He shrugged. "I'll live—as long as the detective doesn't tell the whole world what happened last night. We can't let Rollson know or he'll bring in some men to wipe us all out."

He hadn't meant to burden her with his fears. For some reason, having her standing before him in his clothes was having a nervous effect on him. He looked down, "Sorry."

Leigh moved to the sofa, her feet whispering along the ornate rug. She sat beside him, giving him only a couple inches space. He could feel his heart rate increasing.

"No," she replied. "I was thinking the same things. You don't need to keep the truth from me. I can handle it."

He looked up at her with a crooked smile. "So, any bright ideas?"

She began to chew her lip again, fixating his gaze. "Well," she said thoughtfully. "I have one."

"What's that?"

"I have to bite you."

He looked up, startled. His eyes widened and his shoulder's stiffened. "No," he said firmly, lifting his hands up in front of him. "Absolutely not. You are not making me a wolf."

Leigh took his hands, pushing them down a little irritable. She didn't move them. He wished she would. "That's not what I meant," she protested. "What I'm trying to say, is that you're hurt. Badly. I need to change a few of your cells—just temporarily!—so you'll be able to heal faster.

Doug shook his head stubbornly.

"Doug," she said in exasperation. "You know I have to do this. If I don't—and Rollson finds out—you're as good as dead."

He took a deep sigh. He knew how much he wanted her to bite him again, to feel her heart beating against his. But if he let her, would she get the chance to see what was preoccupying his mind? But she was right. It needed to be fit for whatever lay ahead.

With a deep breath he said. "Okay. Bite me."


	20. Chapter 20

**Well, tomorrow's Saturday, so no one has school. Therefore, I expect reviews!**

**Chapter 20**

Leigh could feel a delicious shiver race down her spine. At that moment, her heart rate doubled. It had already been beating fast at the prospect of biting Doug and as soon as he agreed, her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest. She could smell him—it wouldn't have taken her acute senses to do that. A good soapy smell was lingering over him, laced with a little sweat from his earlier run.

Doug turned to face her on the couch, sitting cross-legged. She noticed that his cheeks weren't quite as gaunt as when she had first laid eyes on him. They were beginning to fill in nicely. Doug really was a good-looking guy, if not noticeably so. She had the wild urge to pull her fingers through his reddish-brown hair. Instead, she scooted forward until she was half sitting on his lap. She could feel the teeth in her mouth sharpening to points in anticipation. She controlled the change, keeping it from going any further. The wolf in her had been acting up lately and she didn't want to give it the chance to be set free.

She cupped the back of his neck, bringing him forward slowly. His pulse raced at an astronomical rate. He's nervous, she realized, although she wasn't exactly sure why. She was the one who should be nervous, seeing as every time she touched him, her fingers tingled with energy. The tingles spread along her arms, creating a balloon in her chest and rising into her throat. A good and searing feeling rushed through her. His scent around her was so human that she had a hard time not thinking about prey—about the hunt.

Her breath brushed across his throat as she brought up the courage to bite. If she got close to him like this—she might not be able to stop herself from telling him how she felt about him. There was a lingering fear that he might push her away—tell her that he didn't feel the same.

Mustering all her courage, she struck. She couldn't help but feel the sick pleasure of her fangs sinking into her neck. The formula sacs above her jaw swelled, aching sweetly. She let them free, focusing on his heart beating against hers. Somehow she had moved closer to him so that she was flush against him. She felt herself trembling with the realization.

His arms moved up to hold her, to comfort her.

There was something nudging at her consciousness…another entity. She reached out with her mind and met Doug. Suddenly, he was all around her, warm and comforting, but demanding too. Leigh wasn't used to having someone this close to her, so intimately linked. His very consciousness surrounded her like soft wings and brushed up against her. A part of her rose up in panic, not wanting this kind of contact.

Relax, she told that part of her mind. She had a hard strong wall around her emotions; around her whole being in fact. An impenetrable wall. Nothing had ever broken it down before and she hoped nothing ever would.

Then she became bombarded with images. She could feel Doug's own anxiety at letting the images go. Doug playing with Jamie when they were kids. Young Doug trying to help his mother make cookies and failing horribly. Doug feeling accomplishment about achieving in school. She realized that he was filtering out the bad images. He wanted to protect her from his haunting past.

She felt herself wrapping her arms tightly about his broad shoulders. The images were coming faster now. Doug running every morning, sorting out his thoughts. Doug trying to comfort the Colonel after he had taken a long and self-pitying drinking binge. Watching after Jamie when the Colonel got mad. The smell of early morning dew and the feeling of a long swim. Listening to the soothing and rhythmic pattern of rain against the window.

Every once and a while, a bad image would get through. But Doug made up for it with a hundred good images, even if he had to resort to sensations. Then new pictures rolled forward that nearly shocked Leigh out of her senses. There was a picture of her standing in front of her house, her back to Doug. Her long straight hair fell back straight and glossy and her hip swayed slightly in the snug pair of jeans. Leigh's head turned to the side, and she saw she was chewing on her lip nervously. She reached out to touch the emotions Doug associated with that image and was sent reeling. Doug saw that girl as beautiful, with a core of steel…and yet fragile. Doug thought she had looked so lost, had wanted to protect her—to make everything all right.

Leigh in wolf form, a midnight blue eye flashing. Leigh looking jittery and a little guilty as she forgot her shoes on the front porch. Then there was an image that made Leigh's cheeks heat up. She was standing up at the top of the stairs, wearing nothing but Doug's blanket. She hadn't really thought of it from a guy's perspective at the time. She had only been trying to get out of a bad predicament.

She pushed further into his mind. He felt protective toward her, that much was clear. He felt fond of her. But he felt those same emotions for Jamie. Did he feel anything more than that for Leigh? She had to find out.

It was then that she felt something burrowing into the thick walls around her mind. It was Doug trying to break through. She recoiled instantly.

_It's private_! She thought and knew that the emotion was immediately conveyed to him as she forgot to block it.

_You're reading my mind_, Doug thought back to her.

There was a feeling that was associated with the thought. It was gone before she could grasp it, racing back to Doug. She chased after the emotion, grasping hold of it. Mistrust_. I wish I could trust you but I can't._

Doug didn't trust her. All of the sudden, his reservations about her flowed to her mind, bombarding Leigh. She wouldn't let him see her mind, what if she didn't want him to know that she was using him? What if he was making a big mistake? He had risked everything for her.

Leigh felt herself drowning in the onslaught of accusations.

_No_! She protested. _I'm not! I would never do that to you! I_…love you. She just barely managed to stop herself from sending the last part of the message.

_Prove it_, his mind parried.

Everything in her protested at opening up to such scrutiny. She had hidden behind her walls for so long! But she suddenly realized so terrifyingly but clear, that she wanted him to see her. She wanted him to know what was beneath her locked doors and giant chasms. She wanted him to know how she felt…all of it.

Slowly she moved forward, until her own mind sat in the center of his. The barriers around her thoughts dissolved. He rushed forward to meet her, almost overwhelming. She had almost lost track of her body altogether, but she realized distantly that she was breathing quickly. Panicked.

Tendrils of thought wrapped around hers, comfortingly. He knew how hard this was for her and he was trying to make it not so terrible. She felt herself leaning forward into his strength. He was Doug. He would protect her—like he always did.

She could feel him probing through her mind. She could see what he was seeing—feel it. She sat there in a sleepy calm, pressed against his muscled chest. He laughed at her funny mistakes and got angry when her mother lectured her. He understood the dark parts of her mind. He embraced the wolf in her, and didn't judge her for stupid past choices.

_You're just like me,_ his mind relayed to her in awe. _All of you are just like humans. You have souls. You care about others and want to make the world better._

This information was so incredibly important to him. He wrapped his arms around her tighter, in gratitude. Leigh wished that she could stay like this forever.

But his mind was slowly falling upon more recent events. For some reason he found her anger at him at their first meeting amusing. He chuckled over the misunderstanding. A part of his mind drifting back. _It wasn't so funny at the time, but now…_

_Now_, Leigh responded. There was no need to end the sentence.

His thoughts brushed upon more recent thoughts and he bristled. She suddenly realized what he was looking at. A picture of her sitting on the front porch that day. Their hands brushed when she gave him the key and electricity crackled up his arm. She could still hear her distant thoughts. _Maybe he does like me. Maybe he could…_

_No,_ Doug's mind was retreating from her. _Jamie's age. Too young. Too young. Too young._

_Doug, wait!_

She could feel his strong arms dropping from her back. His hands fell on her shoulders, prising her away. Their whole cocoon shattered. Leigh blinked with the shock, trembling slightly at being pulled away so suddenly.

"No," he said aloud. His eyes were shut off. There would be no convincing him otherwise. He pushed her away, gentle but firm. He stood, distancing himself. He looked away for a moment, catching his breath.

"Doug?" She managed in an unused voice.

"No," he responded.

Leigh felt her heart plummet into her stomach. He was rejecting her—just like that. It was all because she was too young. Leigh didn't doubt there were some other reasons too. He just didn't want to hurt her feelings.

She stood, feeling sick. Slowly, she moved upstairs to the bedroom. She shut the door behind her, letting the light fall away with it. Encased in the dark and silence, she fell to the bed, allowing the hot and angry tears to fall free.

He didn't want her and he never would.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Doug's mouth tasted like it was coated in a bitter film. That was his first impression as he started to wake up, along with an annoying ringing noise. He had had the hardest time trying to get to sleep that night. He still remembered that look on Leigh's face before she moved up the stairs and disappeared. It about tore his heart out. He—like her parents—was just one more disappointment in her life. Why couldn't she understand that this was for her good? Her mother ridiculed her enough without Doug in the picture. In fact, Leigh's mother had forbid her to see Doug. If he were around, her life would only get ten times worse. He couldn't do that to her.

Thinking of the way Leigh's mother treated her made his hand curl up into a fist while he lay in that comatose position on the couch. His back ached as he lay on the unfamiliar surface, but at least his ribs didn't hurt half as much as they had the night before. He was still very stiff.

His thoughts were still poking at his consciousness, accusing him—even in his half wakeful state. The annoying ringing sound just wouldn't quit. He threw out in the direction of the noise, his hand groping along the floor until he felt something cool and smooth beneath his fingers. It was a jacket. There was a cell phone in the pocket.

Doug was still kind of fuzzy. He didn't remember owning a leather jacket. He rummaged the cell out of the pocket and blinked at it blearily. It continued to ring insistently. He opened it up and pressed the talk button.

It was probably Rollson again. Darn him…

"Hello?" He managed in a groggy voice.

"Doug? Is that you?"

He knew that voice. "Jamie."

"Are you here in town?" Her voice was rising excitedly. "What are you doing with Leigh's cell phone?"

Doug muttered incoherently, cursing himself. I'm such an idiot, he thought. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "Jamie, give me a minute. I'm not quite awake."

"Is Leigh with you?"

"Huh? Yeah." In a matter of speaking.

"Doug," Jamie spoke very slowly and clearly. She knew he didn't think very well after he first woke up. "I need you to do something. I want you to turn on the TV and turn it to channel thirteen. Can you do that?"

Doug grumbled. "I'm not three, Jamie."

"Yes, but it is half past six in the morning. The breaking news. And they've been alluding to an important story. I think it has to do with us.

Doug's heart thumped oddly. His hand formed into a fist. If the detective had done something…if he had given away the situation…so help him.

Feet whispered at the top of the stairs. Doug moved to the television and turned it on, not looking up. He could feel his cheeks coloring slightly.

"Is something going on?" A hesitant voice spoke from the landing. He had never heard Leigh sound so soft—so subdued. It bugged him to hear her sound like that. He almost wished that he could take back his words from the other day.

"Yes," He replied, still not looking up. He didn't know if he'd be able to meet her expression. He flipped to channel thirteen. "The news is about us."

He moved back to the couch. Leigh sat on the exact opposite end of the couch. The tension was palpable, buzzing around him uncomfortably.

He tried to focus on the cheerios commercial.

"Doug?" He almost jumped. He had almost forgotten that he was still holding onto the cell phone. "How long has Leigh known? That you were here?"

"Uh," Doug had to clear his throat again. "A couple of days."

"And she didn't tell me you were here?" Jamie asked disbelievingly.

"Jamie, don't you blame her." He was surprised at how vehemently the words had come out. "She's got enough to deal with."

He took a furtive glance in Leigh's direction. She was looking at him oddly, probably wondering if he was talking about her. Her cheeks colored when she realized that he was looking back. Doug turned back to the screen.

Jamie took a long time answering. "I'm not mad—not really. But why didn't you want to me know you were here?"

"It was just…" Doug floundered. "It was still too much. I couldn't quite accept it yet."

Jamie didn't have to ask what it was that he hadn't quite accepted yet. She knew how hard it was for him to know she was a werewolf—especially when he had spent a good chunk of his life slaying 'wolves for a living.

"I missed you," Jamie said.

"I missed you too," he replied honestly. "And I know now—that you're good. I don't just believe it. I know."

He knew how much that meant to her.

"Thank you," she replied softly after a moment. It almost sounded as if she were tearing over the phone.

"We should get together," Doug told her. "All of us. There's some stuff that Leigh and I know that you guys need to. We need to make a plan. Bring everybody—the adults too."

"I'll call them up," Jamie replied. "Everybody can come to the Carlyle house—after we find out what's so urgent on the news."

"Good," Doug replied, his mind already whirring with possibilities.

"Hey Doug, can I talk to Leigh?"

"Oh. Yeah. Just a second."

He took the phone away from her ear and handed it in Leigh's general direction. "Jamie wants to talk to you," he told her, looking more at her chin than in her eyes.

She lifted her hand to take the phone and their fingers brushed accidentally. There was a crackle of electricity between them. Doug pulled his hand back, nearly dropping the phone as he handed it to her.

Doug didn't know what they were talking about because all he heard was a bunch of "no"s, "hmm"s and "yeah"s.

Just then, the commercials ended. The news music played as the camera zoomed in on two figures sitting at a fine wooden table of sorts.

"Well, Kelly," the man stated, turning to the woman. "We have some interesting news coming from Lampton Hill today. Some very interesting news indeed."

Kelly nodded, looking into the camera. "It appears that the Lampton Hill police department had some nice furry visitors yesterday. A pack of wolves broke into the police station late last night and proceeded to cause havoc."

Footage from one of the security cameras began to play. It had a perfect view of the window. Suddenly there was a loud shattering of glass and a great majestic beast flew in through the window, landing on all fours. A large, winter white wolf. Moments later, several wolves had jumped through the window with more to come.

The picture turned back to Kelly and the man.

"You're not going to believe what happened," Kelly said. "Apparently, these white wolves found their way into the evidence room and confiscated a fair amount of evidence. They also managed to crash all the computers. The police are in uproar."

"Now here's the interesting part," Kelly said, leaning forward excitedly. "Our reporters were arriving at the scene just as a detective Tross returned to find the mess. The man was quite distraught that he began yelling about werewolves and a dead body."

The man laughed. "I'd say Tross isn't quite stable. He must have some very interesting theories if he believes werewolves were the cause of the break in. There are people working on finding where the wolves originated from. It does not appear that any animals have escaped from local zoos as of late. It may be that we still have some wild wolves running around in Illionois."

"Now here is the interesting part of the story:" Kelly said. "There is some truth to some of detective Tross's ravings last night. He did in fact bring in a dead body that has been identified as a 25-year-old male victim, Grady McPhee. The detectives tried to locate his family to give them the bad news last night. Grady's mother was rather distraught."

The scene changed again to view a lady with short and curled blond hair, streaked with gray. Her eyes were luminous under a pair of glasses. "I know he's been getting into trouble lately," she sniffled. "I've tried to get him to get back on a good path. I told him he was going to get in trouble some day. Grady was never one to believe that he could get hurt. And now he's gone."

The woman's shoulder's shook.

"It's been quite a blow," she managed to add. "It's always hard to lose loved ones. I only hope that the ones responsible will be caught. They need to be stopped before they hurt anyone else. I don't want any more mothers to hurt the way I am."

The screen turned back to the man and Kelly. The man looked into the camera with a solemn expression. "I'm sure we all hope the perpetrators are caught. That was such a touching scene." He turned to Kelly. "But you don't actually believe in this whole werewolf business, do you? I think Tross may be taking his imagination a little far.

Kelly giggled the mood suddenly light again. "There is one more piece of information that you might find interesting." She turned to the camera as she continued. "Our reporters were there to see Tross's big outburst. There were only a few coherent sentences among the string of curses. One name he seemed to be profaning was that of Douglas Vince who must be in some way in connection with this case."

Doug felt his hand tighten into a fist.

"Efforts have been made to find out just who this man is and what connection he has to the case. Mr. Douglas Vince is remaining illusive. The lack of paperwork on him is astonishing and very suspicious."

"Honestly?" The man said. "This whole story sounds like a bunch of crock, but I agree it is very suspicious. For those who tend toward more supernatural explanations, the detective's idea might be rather appealing."

Kelly laughed, tossing back her long blond hair. "And for the rest of us, we'll just have to wait and see how this situation turns out. Now, onto sports…"

Doug flipped off the TV, feeling like he wanted to smash something. He knew he couldn't trust the detective and the detective had proven it. When he got his hands on the guy…

Doug sighed. He had more important things to think about. He turned to Leigh. "Come on," he said. "We'll take my truck."

Leigh stood, grabbing her leather jacket. "I'm still wearing your clothes," she said, biting her lip.

"Keep them," Doug said, turning his head away so she wouldn't see his flaming cheeks as he caught another sight of the shape of her curves underneath the fabric.

They filed out the door.


	22. Chapter 22

**Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out! I've been dying to write it but I've been sick. Hope I haven't kept you guys waiting too long! Enjoy.**

**Chapter 22**

Doug guided the truck out of the parking spot and headed toward the mouth of the subdivision. It was so silent in the vehicle that he could have heard a pin drop. It almost made him jump out of his skin when the cell phone in his pocket began to ring loudly. This time it wasn't Leigh's cell phone, but his own. It must be Rollson.

He cursed and Leigh jumped in surprise from her seat on the passenger side. Why was she so dang jumpy today? He thought irritably.

"Sorry," he muttered. Not only for surprising her but also because she had probably caught the jist of his thought patterns. He wished that he knew how to hide his emotions the way she did.

He fished the phone out of his pocket and brought it to his ear, cutting the third ring off short. "Hello?" He braced himself.

"Doug?" Rollson replied.

"Yeah," Doug answered after a heartbeat. "Who else uses this phone?"

"I heard some…err…interesting news this morning. Why didn't you report to me that Grady was dead?"

Doug sighed, his mind whirring. "I didn't have the time or energy. I got pretty beat up that night."

"What happened?" Rollson prompted.

"Grady and I got into a fight with some werewolves and the detective just

happened to get in the way. He ended up shooting Grady."

Well, at least it was only a half-lie. Full blown out lies are hard to pull off. He was worried that Rollson wouldn't believe him even as it was. If Rollson had any special information, then he could possibly be toying with Doug. Doug pushed the idea away. There was nothing in the news article that would suggest he was on the 'wolf side.

"How hurt are you?" Rollson asked.

"Mostly just sore," Doug replied. "For a while there, I thought my ribs were broken, but I think they're fine."

There was a short pause and then he heard a sigh over the phone. "You need to be more careful. I chose you for this case because of your good track record. You know the Colonel would be disappointed if he were around to see you act so rashly."

"Yes sir," Doug felt a small zing of annoyance. Mostly because he knew he had acted rashly that night. He wasn't used to making such blatant mistakes. Being around Leigh did something to him that wouldn't happen otherwise.

"Okay," Rollson said. "Now I want you to take a break. Take a week to recover. I'll send you a new man at the end of the week."

"Someone who has a few more brain cells," Doug added.

"Yes," Rollson agreed. "Someone who's not as rash as Grady. Oh! Look at the time! Doug, I have to run…but make sure you heal up well. I need that job done and I need it done right."

"Yes, sir."

After he hung up the phone, Leigh turned to look at him. She spoke for the first time in about ten minutes. Her voice was dry and unused and her hair fell about her shoulders looking mussed, like she'd just woken up. Doug found himself thinking about how attractive she looked—just out of bed. He had to pull his thoughts away from that direction.

"Was that Rollson?" she asked.

"Yeah, lucky he doesn't know the truth."

Leigh raised her eyebrows. "He didn't get in the position he is today by being an idiot. I'd be careful."

Doug shrugged, but inside he felt a quiver of unease. Leigh's words brought on another wave of suspicion. She was right. Rollson wasn't an idiot. He only hoped that Rollson hadn't caught on to what was going on. If he had, then they might as well jump into some gunfire—unless they preferred for Rollson to shoot them instead.

Doug parked out on the street beside the Carlyle home. The driveway was already packed with as many cars as would fit. Doug had the feeling that even more people would be arriving. Another car drove up behind them just as they were hopping out of the truck. Doug knew the car immediately, just as he knew the inside of Leigh's mind.

Leigh's mom jumped out of the bright red convertible looking harassed. No, she looked more than harassed. In fact, she looked like she was positively fuming as she placed her fists at the sides of her waist and marched toward them. Mr. Bennett had also hopped from the car, but was moving toward them more tentatively.

Doug instinctively moved to Leigh's side, almost placing himself in front of her. He had no love for Leigh's mother. Anyone who treated her the way Mrs. Bennett did was not in his good books.

"I thought I told you not to see him anymore!" Mrs. Bennett snapped, not even deigning a glance in his direction. She had her eyes all for her daughter and they were squinting in fury, her eyebrows looking pinched. She was taking in Leigh's outfit with new horror.

Leigh didn't respond. She was just standing stalk still.

Why didn't she defend herself? Was she always just going to take this without complaint? Doug moved even closer to Leigh as Mrs. Bennett took another step forward.

"So you just decided that you'd be a little tramp? What is he doing here anyway? This is a members only meeting! Leigh, you are really slipping! I really don't know what to do with you! Are you never going to grow up?"

Leigh looked as white as a sheet. Doug realized that this was probably the first time that Mrs. Bennett had yelled at her in front of anyone but family members.

"Mom—"

"No!" Mrs. Bennett lifted finger. "I don't want to hear any more of your excuses! I'm about fed up with all of this!"

Doug couldn't stand to hear this anymore. "Back off for one second!"

Mrs. Bennett looked surprised to hear his harsh tone. The surprise didn't last. His words only brought on another volley from her. She was raring to turn on him. "Don't get me started with you! Who do you think you are, anyway? You don't care about her! This is just some fling for you. A way to get a little action! Don't you care about her feelings? Her future? Obviously not, or you'd let her grow up before you tried to get in her pants."

He cared about Leigh more than he wished to admit.

"Listen to yourself!" Doug snapped. "Listen to what you're saying! Do you really think Leigh's like this? When in the past couple of years has she actually disappointed you? You can't keep bringing up past wrongs! You've got to let them go!"

"When..." Leigh mom floundered, turning red from exasperation and fury. "When has she disappointed me? She disappoints me all the time!"

"Then maybe you're not being realistic!" Doug replied stubbornly. He wished that Leigh would speak up and defend herself…but if she wouldn't, then he'd have to do it for her. "She's done nothing but try to change in the past few years. She stopped those drugs years ago! She even quit smoking. And Leigh is anything but a tramp."

"What about the marijuana I found in her room the other day?" Mrs. Bennett said with a smug glance.

Doug was surprised to find all the answers in his head. He felt as though he had known Leigh all her life. Being in her head had done that to him.

"It's old. You know how often Leigh cleans her room."

"What about you. There's another sign of her irresponsibility."

"How?" Doug snapped. "She has been perfectly responsible. She has done nothing to deserve this. If you could only see her mind—see what I've seen—you wouldn't say this."

Somehow, this didn't have the desired effect that he had expected. Mrs. Bennett folded her arms across her chest and glared at both of them. She turned to Leigh. "You may not be there yet, but you're certainly on your way, aren't you?"

Mrs. Bennett stalked off. Mr. Bennett followed behind her, giving them an apologetic glance as he passed.

Leigh sighed, slumping against the truck. Doug leaned against the car beside her, feeling the warm metal against his back. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Usually he was so good at keeping his emotions under control. The past couple of weeks had shown him that he was no more in control of his emotions than any normal human beings. After a few deep breaths, his fists were finally able to unclench.

A light breeze drifted over them, lifting Leigh's hair so that it brushed lightly against his cheek.

"Why don't you fight back?" He asked her.

Leigh stopped chewing her lip to answer. Doug realized that her cheeks were colored, but he couldn't figure out why. She spoke, sounding a little distant. "What's the point? She's never going to believe me anyway."

Another thought occurred to him. "What did she mean? When she said you were on your way?"

He realized the reason for the color in her cheeks because they flamed even brighter then. She peeked a glance in his direction.

"She was talking about how you'd seen my mind. About the fact that I bit you."

"And?" Doug prompted, nonplussed.

"Biting is used for a few different reasons: information, changing, healing…and romantic reasons."

Doug thought he knew where this was heading, but he let her continue anyway.

"You know how humans have three bases? Well, we have four. Biting is considered second base. And my mom was suggesting…"

"Suggesting that you were on your way to home." He finished, wincing. He smacked his hand against his forehead. "Leigh, I'm sorry. I made a mess out of that one. I was trying to help and I only made it worse."

Their hands were only inches apart, and he was doing his best not to think about moving a couple inches to the left. He wanted to smack himself for thinking about stuff like that at a time like this.

Leigh looked straight at him then. For the first time since that morning, she didn't look scared to talk to him. "It's okay," she said honestly. "You didn't know. And besides, even if you hadn't said it, she would have assumed. You didn't make it any worse."

Doug wiped his hand against the pant leg of his jeans. It was sweaty.

"Thank you," Leigh said. "For defending me."

Her head was tilted upward so that she could look him in the face. She was chewing her lip again. Dang, why did she always have to do that? She looked so cute like that. Doug found himself moving forward an inch.

Leigh took a soft intake of breath. She was looking at his mouth.

What do you think you're doing? Doug scolded himself, realizing his intent. He took a step back, feeling uncomfortable. "Um, we should go inside. I bet everyone's waiting."

With that, he turned and left.


	23. Chapter 23

**Okay, so I know this is a short chapter, but I happen to like it. Enjoy.**

**Chapter 23**

Leigh knew she should have been anything but mad at Doug. He had just defended her in front of her mother. She should be grateful that he cared enough to argue for her. But as she watched his retreating back, all she wanted to do was smack him. She was working herself into a real state.

Taking a deep breath, Leigh followed him into the house, keeping her face as blank as always. Inside she was festering. How could he play with her like this? One minute it looked like he was going to kiss her, and the next he was backing off. He couldn't keep playing yoyo with her heart. She was already worn too thin and she didn't think she could hide the hurt if he it kept up too long.

She felt a craving rising in her.

She caught the screen door just as it was creaking shut and slipped in. She heard an excited squeal and looked up to see Doug and Jamie embracing. She couldn't help smirking as she saw the surprise on her mother's face. Mrs. Bennett had no idea who Doug was and probably hadn't expected such a reaction from Jamie.

Leigh blundered past all the people in their separate conversations. Meetings wouldn't start for a few minutes. There were still people arriving. She hurried to her sanctuary in the garage, feeling a burning in her, threatening to overwhelm her.

She picked up the old sleeping bag that was rolled out over the couch and threw it to the side. Next, she dismantled all the cushions and began digging her fingers through the crevices. She knew she'd lost one down here about a month ago and she needed it now. To heck with quitting. She didn't give a crap anyway.

Her fingers found something blessedly smooth and round. Yes. She pulled it out almost frantically and exited the garage through the side door. She rummaged through her leather jacket until she had found a lighter, her eyes fixated on the flame as she lit it.

She took a great long drag and closed her eyes leaning against the side of the house. Forget Doug. He was a jerk anyway.

Someone came bursting through the side door just as she was about to bring the cigarette to her lips again. Fingers snatched it away and dropped it to the ground. Leigh let out a protesting wail as Jamie's booted foot crushed it with one twist.

"I wanted that!"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm forgetting that the world exists, and excuse you for reminding me otherwise," Leigh muttered before she could help herself.

Jamie sighed. Leigh just knew Jamie was going to start asking her curious questions and in her furious state, she just might answer them. She was looking at Leigh with a penetrating gaze and it was unnerving her. Leigh scrunched her shoulders together and leaned into the side of the house.

"What's going on?" Jamie asked more softly.

"I don't know!" Leigh snapped. "Why don't you ask your freaking brother because I'd like to know why he keeps bouncing back and forth like a friggin' yoyo! If he keeps it up, I'll strangle him!"

"What did he do?" Jamie asked.

"A whole crap load of nothing!" Leigh was still fuming. "He won't even kiss me! He plays like he's going to just so he can rip my heart out."

"Leigh, you know my brother's not like that," Jamie defended him immediately. At the same moment, a light was dawning in her eyes. "You're in love with him."

"So what if I am?" She grumbled.

Jamie laughed then and Leigh's eyes rose to take in her face with a nonplussed expression. Jamie's hair spilled forward to hide her face as she doubled forward. "I'm not," she gasped, holding her stomach, "laughing at you. Okay, so I am laughing at you, but not for the reason's you think."

"Spill, Jamie," Leigh folded her arms, not the least bit amused.

"It's just that I think I've learned more about you in the past two minutes than I've gleaned in a year! You just keep so bottled up!"

"And that's funny?" Leigh questioned.

Jamie grinned with a slightly apologetic wince. "That and you can't pull off an angry expression. You just look to comical."

Despite herself, Leigh felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Doug said things were bad for you," Jamie said, suddenly serious. "What else has been bugging you?"

Leigh sighed and ticked off her fingers. She couldn't believe she was telling Jamie this, but she'd already blurted out a fair bit, she might as well spill the rest. "Well, the detective was blackmailing me, but Doug and I fixed that situation. Two, my mom's been nagging at me for as long as I can remember. Three, I haven't even sent in any college apps because I'm just too scared to grow up and take responsibility. Four, my mom's threatened to throw me out of the house in a month. Five, your brother's being a jerk. Six, I'm just plain messed—"

Jamie lifted her hand to cut Leigh off. "I have a feeling this list could go on forever."

Leigh grinned ruefully. She had been getting into quite a roll.

Jamie chuckled knowingly. "I think you probably feel one hundred percent better right now, don't you?"

Leigh searched her feelings. She had to admit that Jamie was right. All the anger had evaporated away into nothingness. Even the load that had been pressing down on her shoulders seemed lighter. She took in a deep, refreshing breath.

"You're right," she said, turning back to Jamie. "How did you do that?"

"I'd like to thank the academy…" Jamie started off and changed tactics. "No. It was you. I didn't do anything. You just didn't realize how good it feels to open up once and a while. Blow off a little steam."

Leigh thought of something suddenly. "Hey, what are you doing out here anyway? This is the first time you've seen your brother in like forever, and instead you're out here pulling candies away from babies."

"If cigarettes were candies then we'd all have black lungs," Jamie muttered.

Leigh lifted her hands in defeat. "You win. No more cigarettes. That was my first one in about two weeks anyway."

"You know I wouldn't leave you to fester out here, right?" Jamie asked. "You're my best friend. As much as you try to hide it, I can tell when something is wrong. Doug'll still be there when I get back. He can wait."

Leigh felt a warm glow.

Jamie straightened. "Come on!"

"Where are we going?"

The garage door squealed open and Jamie rested her hand on it, looking back. "I know I can't help you with most of your problems. Only you can work through them."

Leigh nodded, biting her lip. She knew this. And for some reason, it didn't bug her as much as before.

"But there is one thing I can help you get started on."

"What's that?" Leigh asked guardedly.

"College apps. I've got a bunch of packets upstairs. I can help you get started on some before the meetings start."


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

The meeting that was supposed to start hours ago had yet to go underway. It was apparently turning into a community event. Not only the families involved in the police station break-in were invited, but just about every other 'wolf in the community. There were a lot more 'wolf families in town than Doug had first realized. It was as if everyone had seen the six o'clock news this morning. Maybe his father had hit the jackpot last spring. And he hadn't even known it! By the time noon ran around, there were about twenty arguing adults in the Carlyle living room. They were still waiting on a few stragglers.

There was just so much noise and too many women wearing too much perfume. Doug could barely move, much less breathe. The claustrophobia was so intense that he could hardly stand it. He wormed his way through the crowd to the French doors. He slipped out onto the back patio, shutting the noise behind him. He took a deep and relieved breath.

There was a wooden two-seater swing beneath the giant oak tree in the back yard. Doug moved out of the shaded area and allowed the sun to douse him in its lazy warmth. He took a seat on one side of the swing and kicked off gently. The swing rocked back and forth and he closed his eyes, lowering his defences for one moment.

He breathed out, finally opening his eyes because he couldn't dispel the image of Leigh that had been printed on the back of his eyelids. How could he have thought to have taken advantage of her frailty—of her bad situation? The last thing she needed was him. He was so messed up as it was. He'd killed so many people. She needed someone who could be strong for her. For some reason, her age just didn't seem to matter to him anymore. It was a frail excuse against the desire that was burning in him. She'd been graduating soon. Maybe then…

No. He cut the thought off short. She deserves better than you. Do you want her to have to deal with your nightmares and your non-eating marathons? It wasn't fair to her.

The sound of jabbering voices rose and fell as the sound of the door opening and closing reached Doug's ears. It squealed audibly on its hinges. Doug ignored the individual and continued to rock back and forth, hoping that person would do the same. He needed some time to think—to gather his senses.

He groaned inwardly when the swing was pulled to a halt. A weight occupied the other side of the swing. Slowly it began to rock back and forth again. A hint of some berry smell hit his nostrils.

"Hi," a distinctly female voice reached his ears.

He opened his eyes to view what must have been Lampton Hill's Prom Queen this year. She was smiling at him coyly, her blond hair falling softly about her shoulders. She was wearing a strategic mini-dress and a rather low cut top.

"Amber," Doug replied with little interest.

Sure, she was beautiful. But then, so was Leigh. They were different types of beautiful. Doug had to admit he had a preference for Leigh's smoothly sculpted face and midnight blue eyes. Her features were sharper and paler than Amber's, but the contrast between the light and dark was so much more appealing to his senses. Amber's golden skin and strategically cherry-colored lip gloss didn't hold a candle to her.

"So you know my name," Amber replied with a smile curving up her lips.

Of course he did. He'd spent a week stalking her and her friends. Doug just shrugged. He didn't think it was appropriate to mention this, seeing that at the time, he had been planning to kill her.

Amber slid closer on the swing.

"It's so great that you came back. Jamie's told me tons about you."

Doug wished she would back off. Her knee was resting against his pant leg. Doug glanced up—and sure enough, Alec was standing just within the French doors. He was looking over, but as soon as he caught Doug's gaze, he turned away. He was trying to appear casual, but Doug could see how stiff and erect his shoulders looked.

He felt a twinge of sympathy—even though god knew Alec probably didn't deserve it. Neither of them did.

Doug sighed. "What do you want?"

Amber looked hurt, but Doug knew it was an act. "I wanted to get to know you. I've heard so many exciting things."

"Amber?" Doug said bluntly. "Quit while you're ahead."

Amber's eyes widened and she gasped. "I can't believe you just said that! I was only trying to be your friend. But I guess you don't like friendship, don't you?"

Amber's eyes flashed angrily.

Doug leaned back into the chain holding up the swing and just shrugged. He hoped she would just go away, but she didn't. She seemed determine to make a dent in him for the comment. She was just like a bull terrier.

"You're heartless, aren't you? Just like your father!"

"Amber, I know what you're doing," Doug replied. "You don't think I watched you? All of you? I saw all the guys you made out with, just to make Alec jealous. And you know what? I don't want to be a part of your little scheme. I have more important things to do."

"But you would if you weren't so busy," Amber suggested.

"No," Doug said firmly. "I wouldn't. Is that so hard to accept?"

Apparently it was. Amber was obviously used to being the center of attention, the most wanted girl in school. She couldn't seem to fathom the fact that some guy wouldn't want her. And she had a flair for stubbornness.

"You can't tell me that you don't find me the least bit attractive."

Doug scoffed. "What does that got to do with anything?"

Amber was leaning forward in her seat, a pout moving along her glistening lips. "Give me one good reason why you wouldn't want to make out with me."

Doug stood as she invaded more of his space, backing away. "I'll give you several. One, you're high maintenance—"

Amber protested at this comment.

Doug bulldozed on. "Two, I don't want to be in the middle of your stupid war. You two should learn what a real relationship is like before you hurt each other beyond repair. And three, I'm in love with someone else."

The last part was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Amber jumped to her feet. "No, you're not. From what I've gathered from Jamie, you've never dated in your life. Your mind's too damaged to actually love, isn't it?" She kept on the attack, trying to tear him down for the humiliation on her part. "You're just too messed up. So don't you lecture me on how to have a real relationship. You don't have a clue yourself."

"You have a habit of starting arguments, don't you?" Doug replied in return. He didn't envy Alec at all. He had to have his hands full with someone like her.

"Don't change the subject!" Amber snapped gleefully. "I'm right, aren't I? You wouldn't change the subject if I wasn't!"

Doug raised his hands in finality. It was his way of cutting the conversation off short. He had nothing more to say to Amber. So he had relationship problems. So what? What did that have to do with anything? He'd already accepted that fact. Amber was effectively preaching to the choir—not him.

"Oh, no you don't," Amber said, pushing his arms down. "I'm not finished talking to you."

Doug started to move around her, but she clutched his arm with her 'wolf grip. He wouldn't be able to pry her loose without hurting her. He couldn't hurt a girl just because she was being a pain in the butt. It's not like she was trying to kill him or anything. "Amber, just leave me alone. Let me go."

"You can't tell me that you're not attracted to me," Amber said. "You can't tell me that this doesn't feel good."

And then she kissed him. His lips remained slack. It was a fleeting moment and then she had removed herself and was walking back toward the house. She thought she was making a great exit, swaying her hips. But the effect was lost on Doug, who could taste the sickly sweet residue of her lip gloss on his lips.

He could honestly say that it hadn't felt good. It hadn't felt good at all. He couldn't tell her because she had already disappeared into the house.

Alec was standing just inside the French doors with a firm jaw and folded arms. His look said that they were going to settle this later. Doug guessed that that settling primarily involved Alec's fist. But for now, Alec just stuck his head out the door.

"Get in here," he muttered gruffly. "The meeting's starting."

Doug sighed and headed toward the house. Life had been so much easier when it had been just Leigh and he fighting whatever battles they chose. He hated working with big groups. They were so hard to manoeuvre, and there was always infighting. And now he was caught in the middle of it.

He only hoped they could get this situation settled so that he could get away from all of this. He slipped within the door, just as the last of the people were gathering from separate quarters of the house.

Doug caught sight of Leigh entering the room from the other direction. He instinctively tried to catch her eye, but she turned her head away. Doug felt unnerved. He tried again, but she refused to look at him.

He had thought that they had gone away on good terms. What was going on?


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Leigh was squeezed in between Jamie and a Mr. Sullivan. They stood along the side wall, next to the living room entrance. Leigh had barely paid attention to a thing that had been said so far. The parents were just explaining their break in to the police station earlier. It was nothing important—at least not to her.

Nothing seemed important after what she had just witnessed while working through a college application in Jamie's and Amber's room. She had been sitting by the window when Doug had gone out to sit on the swing. She had tried to faze him out, but hadn't been able to help herself from looking up every couple of minutes. He had started talking to Amber and then…they were kissing!

Leigh was absolutely mortified. After all this time, Doug had shown her nothing but friendship and concern. But then, a few moments around Amber and he'd kissed her? What happened to the whole, you're not old enough argument? Had she really been that pathetic, that he felt the need to lie to her? Leigh felt her cheeks burn just remembering.

She wanted to be angry at him. She wanted to hate him. But how was it his fault if he wasn't interested in her? But she could be angry at Amber for using him. She knew that Amber did this sort of thing all the time. Both she and Alec did. They used each other.

And every time she caught Doug looking at her out of the corner of her eye, her heart throbbed. She even wanted to angry at herself for being in love with him.

As the speech was going on, Porter's dad was moving around the room. He handed her a little vial as he passed. Soon, everyone had a bottle of TryptoKeri within their hands. It was expensive to give out that much TryptoKeri, but necessary. They never knew when they were going to need it—especially if they went after Rollson.

When the police station explanation was finished, Mr. Carlyle spoke up. "But what's this situation with Doug and the Police officer?"

Everyone turned their eyes to Doug and he began to explain—starting with Rollson. A couple of eyes widened at the man's name. Apparently he had a bit of a reputation preceding him.

When he got to the part involving Leigh, she added her voice in. Her voice sounded unused and shaky to her ears. Suddenly, she was being pushed through the crowd to stand next to Doug so that she could be seen and heard. Doug caught her eye when she was unaware and sent her a questioning glance. She didn't bother to respond.

She just turned to face the crowd and continued with her part of the story. She caught sight of her mother's face in the crowd, darkening with horror as she explained the blackmailing. She wished she could leave it out, but it was an important part of the story. When they were finished, she was left feeling exposed.

The only parts they left out were the ones to do with their biting sessions—for which she was grateful. The room was filled with silence. It was so silent that the air conditioning sounded like a revving motor in the background.

"So," a figure from the crowd mentioned finally. "What do you plan to do?"

"We need to fight," Doug responded. "Rollson wants us dead. He wants to destroy the 'wolfs of Lampton Hill, and he will try until he kills us. So instead of waiting until that happens, I suggest we ambush his stronghold!"

There was a giant uproar at this comment. Protests were flying from every direction.

"There's not enough of us!"

"How do you expect us to do that without any equipment?"

"What about the electric fence?"

Leigh saw Doug close his eyes and rub his temples as the noise washed over them. He had never been able to deal with crowds very well. Neither of them was a big people person, but she could handle people better than he could. Despite the hurt that was threatening to overwhelm her, she felt a certain pity for him. She lifted her hands to try to quiet the people.

"All right! All right! He has a plan! Just let him speak!"

Leigh didn't know this fact for sure, but she could bet that if Doug didn't have a plan…he could come up with one pretty darn fast. She hoped, anyway. He and Jamie were both very resourceful when they needed to be.

Doug opened his eyes to take on the crowd. "Okay," he called out. "Does anyone know of some people who would be willing to help us. It's a good point. We would be better off with more numbers."

Leigh turned to look at one person in the crowd. Alec was leaning against the wall, his laughing puppy dog eyes were anything but laughing at the moment and Leigh could pretty darn well guess why. He must have witnessed exactly what she had. He was glowering in his little corner, but at Leigh's glance he straightened. He nodded to her in acquiescence.

"I know of a couple of guys who would be able to help us," Alec spoke up gruffly. "They're not going to like you, though. They don't take well to former slayers. They don't take well to humans in general."

Doug nodded, unfazed by this fact. And unfazed by the fact that Alec was doing his best to indimidate him. "Well?" he asked.

"My old gang from back in Chicago," Alec replied. "They know Rollson well. They've got quite a beef with him in fact. I can speak for them, they'd love to offer their support. Plus, their seasoned fighters."

Doug nodded and began to address the other issues. "As for equipment and the fence--I think I've got some ideas about that. I've got some people I need to talk to on that issue."

"Or threaten," Doug added under his breath. Leigh was near enough to pick up what he had said. She supposed she was the only one in the room who had. She couldn't help smirking at the comment. She thought she knew exactly what he was talking about--but she couldn't be sure. If she was right on her assumption, she'd dearly love to threaten this individual too.

And chances were, he would have some useful equipment for them.

"So when should we make our attack?" Porter's father spoke up.

"As soon as possible," Doug replied. "It'll take us a few days to gather up our resources and think up a strategy...but we should move in right after that. we don't want to give Rollson the chance to get suspicious. Rollson's a smart man and I don't want to leave him any openings."

Murmurings began through the room and people began to speak in their own little groups. Their talk seemed mostly affirmative. The plan was definitely a go. Doug had effectively placed himself in charge of this operation. Leigh only hoped he had some good ideas, because she knew nothing about tactics and strategy.

People began to disperse into small circles.

"Hey, can I talk to you?" Doug asked, regarding her with an inquisitive look.

Her mind started flashing warning bells. She couldn't tell what he was thinking--or even what he was feeling, although enough of his cells were lycanthropic. He was obviously learning how to block himself. It left Leigh feeling nervous and jittery--not knowing what his intentions were.

Hiding up one's emotions was not generally done within a pack of wolves. The telepathy was needed for the hunt. Those who would not share their thoughts were instinctively shunned. Often made outcasts. They were like the lone 'wolves in nature. Leigh had been lucky. Her friends accepted her anyway. Now she was experiencing firsthand what it was like to be around someone who chose to hide their emotions.

She had never been the sociable type--but right now she really wished she could read him.

"Sure," she agreed, although she really didn't want to. She had images in her head of him telling her about the kiss with Amber. Her cheeks colored just thinking about it. It was bad enough, reliving the image in her mind. She didn't need to hear it from his lips. But no, he probably wouldn't tell her about that. It was probably just more business stuff. Doug had avoided getting close to her--right from the very beginning.

Doug took hold of her hand and began to tug her in the direction of the French doors. Shivers crept up her arms. Pleasureable shivers. She ignored them. She expected him to let go as soon as he'd tugged her into movement, but he didn't. She was hyper aware of his fingers, cupping hers.

They never made it to the back door, because it shattered with a rocking explosion. Glass sprayed everywhere. For a moment, everybody stood stock still, not sure what was happening.

Then someone--or someones--opened gunfire from somewhere in the woods, bullets pinging against the side of the house.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

Doug knocked Leigh to the ground and covered her with his body. He knew he was no good shield against flying bullets, but he was better than nothing. His eyes were already wandering, trying to locate Jamie among the mass of screaming and cowering individuals that dotted the living room. She and Porter were huddled in a little nook beneath the stairs—better situated than anyone else in the room.

Doug blamed himself for his lack in judgement. They were all sitting ducks. He should have known Rollson was smarter than that. The call this morning—it had been made to alleviate Doug. Rollson had made it to keep Doug from becoming suspicious of what Rollson knew. And like an idiot he'd fallen for it.

Leigh bucked him off and rolled on top of him. He protested and tried to shield her again while she was busy rummaging through her pocket. Leigh would not be deterred. She pulled out the vial of TryptoKeri and downed the whole thing in one gulp.

"Don't be an idiot," her voice grated. "You're the one who's vulnerable right now."

She downed the TrytoKeri only a moment too soon. Another volley of gunshots cut through the house and riddled her body. Leigh leaned forward into him, coughing up blood all over his white tee-shirt.

"Leigh!" He yelled.

She didn't respond. Doug took a firm hold on body and began to inch along the ground, backing away from the shattered French doors. If Leigh was dead, he would personally destroy Rollson himself.

He slipped along the dining room floor, wincing sympathetically as a man screamed out from the living room. He nudged Leigh's head to the side because it was covering half his vision. He couldn't help it—he had to watch. The man who'd been shot was leaning against the wall adjacent to the French doors. Blood was pouring from a wound in his stomach. Slowly, flesh crawled over the opening, leaving a purple bruise on the man's stomach. The blood began to recede from where it rested beneath the skin. In moments, it looked as though the bullet had never been there at all.

Doug shook his head in amazement. This was his first real encounter with TryptoKeri. He knew some slayers from the west coast who encountered it regularly. It was an amazing substance—made 'wolves darn near indestructible. To his surprise, almost all the 'wolves in the room had downed their TryptoKeri. The empty vials that littered the floor were indication of this. The figures were moaning now, but in minutes they'd be in top shape.

Doug inched his way into the kitchen. Here he would have an extra set of walls surrounding him. He dared to sit up, placing Leigh gently on the cool linoleum. He kissed her slack lips and brushed the hair back from her forehead.

Oh god, let her be all right. Please let the TryptoKeri work faster than the silver. He ran his hand along her stomach, where most of the silver bullets had exited. Her blood soaked the front of her shirt. Her precious leather jacket was in ruins. He knew how much Leigh would hate that if she were awake—if she were alive.

He pulled back the fabric covering her midriff to inspect the wounds. His eyes met clear and unblemished skin. He sighed with relief, closing his eyes briefly. She had already healed. He pulled her to him and leaned against the cupboards for support. His worry had just taken up too much energy. He just needed a moment to gather his bearings. He sat there, stroking her hair absently.

The shots continued to rain against the side of the house. From his vantage point, Doug could just barely see the wall that contained the destroyed French doors. From what he saw of it, the house was not worth salvaging. The whole wall was littered with bullet holes, like a piece of paper that had been attacked by a hole puncher. The sun's afternoon light streamed through the hundreds of holes, casting beams across the room.

They had to run out of ammo eventually. Until then, the inhabitants of the house could wait it out.

Leigh began to stir within his grip. He tried to pull her even closer to him—although, he wasn't sure if that was virtually possible. If they got out of this alive, he didn't know if he could let her leave his sight.

"What's going on?" Leigh groaned, trying to stretch within his grip and failing miserably. "You're squeezing my ribs."

"Sorry. Do you hurt at all?" he asked. He loosened his grip on her.

She blinked at the question. "No," she answered finally, then realization began to dawn in her eyes. She must have forgotten the past couple of minutes, Doug decided.

Leigh sat bolt upright, worming out of his grip.

"Everyone! They're getting shot—"

"They're fine," Doug assured her, hoping he was completely correct. "They took the TryptoKeri—just like you."

The dining room window shattered and Doug pulled her back down again. It wasn't a moment too soon. The bullet would have gone right through her skull. Instead, it had punctured the oven door and embedded itself into the back wall.

Leigh looked a little sick.

"That would have hurt," Doug stated his nose only inches from hers. He smiled crookedly at her. "Maybe you should stay down here."

Leigh nodded. She suddenly seemed to be aware of how close their faces were—of how close _they_ were. She moved back a small distance and the cold air came rushing in to remind Doug of where her body had once been. He wished he could tug her back to his side, but Leigh would probably have hit him. He wouldn't blame her, either.

He thought he understood why she had been so aloof around him before the shooting started. It was probably because he was acting so warm and cold around her. She had let him know how she felt about him—and since then, he had been struggling to keep his hands to himself. But he could imagine how it looked from her point of view: like he was playing with her.

Maybe it was better like this. If she disliked him, she wouldn't be so hurt by his rejection. And this way, she wouldn't end up getting close enough to him to get hurt even more.

The shooting seemed to have stopped. Doug rose slowly to a sitting position. This was just too easy. They must still have something up their sleeves. He sniffed the air, and sure enough, he caught a whiff of gasoline—probably laced with a silver and gunpowder concoction.

There must have been some runners who had gotten close enough to the house to douse it in gasoline. They were trying to burn the 'wolves out. That meant they were almost out of ammo. They would use the last couple of rounds on whoever managed to escape the fiery silvered blaze.

The attackers probably wanted to get out of the area pronto. The neighbours had likely called the police by now. Rollson's men could easily defeat the police—but not without destroying Rollson's cover. They would run.

Doug couldn't hear any sirens as of yet. But they'd be here soon. If they didn't come soon—he'd have to go out there and disarm the enemy. That is, if he could manage it.

"Leigh, listen to me," he said on a breath of air. "Get out of here. Make a run for it. And if you get riddled with a few bullets, you'll be fine. It won't kill you. You don't want to stay here."

Leigh raised her eyebrows, sniffing the air. Understanding dawned on her face. She wasn't stupid. She knew what was going on—or at least Doug thought that she had some idea. She was quickly calculating the situation.

The sound of crackling flames hit his ears, followed by a few, minor gunpowder explosions. The drapes in the dining room had caught fire, crackling merrily. The house was likely being consumed at an exponential rate from the outside. Doug couldn't see from his vantage point, but he could see the effects. Smoke was spilling into the house, making the living room inhabitants cough loudly. He hoped they were all right.

"What about you?" Leigh asked.

Doug snorted derisively. He knew he didn't have much chance anyway. He was part 'wolf at the moment, but he doubted it would be enough to save his skin.

"I'd rather face the blazing fire than the flying bullets," he responded. "I think I have a far better chance of survival. At least I can wait out the fire for a while—the shooting…well I couldn't. If I got shot, that's it."

"I'm not leaving," Leigh said stubbornly, hands on her hips. She sat in front of him cross-legged, her knees touching his.

"Leigh—" he began, ready to argue this point to the death.

"Save the oxygen," Leigh snapped in return, cutting him off. Her expression showed that she had her mind made up—and that she was too darn stubborn to listen to what Doug was telling her. "You're going to need it later."

Doug groaned in frustration.

He looked at her for a moment, trying to surmise her reasons. "It'll hurt," he warned her. "Slow burning is a lot worse than a quick bullet."

Leigh shrugged. "Either way I'll survive. Someone's gotta stay around to make sure you don't kill yourself. The moment I leave, you'd probably go and try to do something heroic…and get yourself killed in the process."

Doug groaned. That had been the farthest thought from his mind—at least he thought. Well, if he couldn't convince her then he might as well stop trying.

He let off a curse, smiling because he was at a lack for a better facial expression. He was feeling reckless—almost drunk. Heck, if he was going to die within the next couple of minutes, what did it all matter anyway? All his reservations left him.

He looked at Leigh. Her blue eyes turned from stubborn to confused. He knew she was trying to read him and failing. Well, he'd show her what he was thinking.

He got to his knees and leaned toward her. Her eyes widened as he took her by the waist and pulled her to him. His mouth covered hers. She responded after the initial shock, kissing him back.

He cupped the back of her neck and kissed her again, zings of energy crackling through him. She was so close he wanted to taste her. He moved to deepen the kiss, but a pair of hands landed on his chest, pushing him back.

His eyes widened as he looked down at Leigh's hands to find they were pressed against his chest, holding his mouth an inch away from hers. He hovered there for one moment, not quite sure how to react.

"Leigh…"

"Amber would be hurt," she said, her voice cracking slightly.

_Oh._

Doug almost didn't hear the sirens arriving from the distance. No, Amber wasn't the one who was hurt. She was. He could see the tears pooling in her midnight blue eyes. She brushed them away angrily.

It made his heart ache just looking at her.

How was he going to make her understand?


	27. Chapter 27

**Sorry for the long wait! I've been a little to busy to write this next chapter. I hope it was worth the wait. Thanks to Ande and Aella88 for the reviews!**

**Chapter 27**

Leigh wiped at her blurry eyes angrily. She couldn't believe that she had let him see what she was feeling. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she control her emotions?

She was almost angrier at herself than she was with Doug at that minute. She had known better than to let him kiss her—and yet she had anyway. She'd wanted him to—so much so that she had lost sight of the truth. She knew he had just been kissing Amber. So why had she let him? And the scary thing was that she had seen Doug's mind, and nothing in it had ever suggested to her that he was a player. She had been so blind and stupid. She couldn't believe she had ever liked him.

And she couldn't seem to stop the tears from coming. She took shallow gasping breaths because the smoke was getting too thick. The heat was almost becoming nearly unbearable to her sensitive 'wolf skin. The curtains were up in flames and fire was spreading across the wallpaper, curling it and leaving nasty black marks along the walls.

Leigh turned blindly. She didn't care what danger she was getting herself into. She wasn't going to stay here a moment longer. She'd noticed only dimly that the firing had stopped. She shimmied along the floor in the direction of the living room, coughing.

"Leigh!" Doug called after her.

She ignored him and moved onto the carpeted floor. Patches of fire were spreading. And there were bodies…everywhere. Some were groaning or moving slightly; many weren't moving at all. Leigh's heart caught in her throat as she saw Bella laying face down in the carpet with her blonde hair draped across her face and fire licking at her fingertips.

Leigh got to her knees and bundled the little girl in her arms. Her life force was glowing, but only dimly. She made sure she had a good grip on the tiny girl's body and began wading through the masses of suffering people. So much suffering…

Leigh's stomach lurched. She didn't think that she had eaten enough in the past few days to warrant the mess she spewed all over the carpet, but obviously she had. The putrid smell steamed upward, catching her nostrils. She almost retched again as a result. She swallowed sickly and navigated around the mess, heading for the front door.

Flames were licking around the door frame. Leigh reached for the handle and yelped, pulling her hand back. A deep red mark scalded her palm. It began to heal immediately. She wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

Gripping Bella to her chest, she dipped to the floor and took a long breath before standing. She brought her leg up and kicked with all her might. There was a ripping sound and a shower of sparks. The door fell with a thunderous crash.

Cool air rushed at her cheeks. She heard the sound of people coming up behind her. She darted a backward glance. Jamie was moving forward, carrying Amber's prone form. She was followed by Porter and Porter's father, who were also carrying people. Doug was pulling up the rear, steadying Alec's form. Alec was coughing up blood, looking woozy.

They hurried out into the sunlight. The next couple of minutes were a blur as the group set their charges a safe distance from the house and ran back in for more. They had successfully retrieved all of the people by the time the fire truck had arrived to take care of the blaze. It was too late though. There was no way they would be able to salvage the Carlyle home.

Then the ambulances arrived. They were surprised to find most of the people unhurt—who had been healing even as they had been laying there waiting for assistance. They began to load one man on a stretcher.

Leigh hurried forward, catching sight of a dark head streaked with gray. The paramedics tried to push her away so that they could move the guy into the car. Leigh refused to be deterred until she had gotten a look at the man's features. She knew that large, bulbous nose and the unshaved cheeks. It was her uncle Dolan.

Leigh swallowed sickly when she caught sight of the wound in his forehead. A bullet must have passed right through his brain. The wound had filled with blood, for which she was glad. She wouldn't have wanted to see the damage that lay beneath.

She knew instantly that he was dead. He hadn't taken his TryptoKeri—probably hadn't had the presence of mind to do so when the shooting started. She doubled forward, feeling acid at the back of her throat. But nothing came out. She had nothing left to spew.

The paramedics brushed passed her, taking her uncle with them.

People were now on their feet discussing and arguing heatedly. The police had also arrived and were moving about the crowd, trying to discern what had happened. Apparently, one of the neighbours had called them for assistance when she realized what all the banging noises were about.

Leigh sat down on the sidewalk, burying her knees into her chest and tried to block out all the noise. She didn't know how many more angry and wailing voices she could stand. She built a wall around her attention and hid behind it. No matter what she did, a few voices filtered through her carefully laid walls.

"I'm not going to be a part of this anymore—"

"What if I died and my wife was left to care for the children alone?"

"This isn't our problem—"

"This is too dangerous. I didn't realize—"

Despite the fuzz that filled Leigh's brain, she got the general gist of what people were saying. They were saying that Leigh and her friends were alone. This was their battle and they would have to deal with it. They hadn't realized the seriousness of the situation. They hadn't realized that people might actually get hurt—that people might actually die. It had been so unreal to them. Now they understood and they were backing out. They were all alone again.

She faintly heard Jamie's voice echoing through the crowd—trying to rally everyone together again. She was trying to get them to hold themselves together and look at the bigger picture. Leigh knew her real intent was to calm the panic—because the 'wolfs didn't seem to notice all the humans around. They didn't exactly what the humans were catching on to.

Leigh knew she should help Jamie, but she couldn't seem to get herself to move. She didn't want to move again. In her present state, she hoped that she could just stay there, curled up on the cement and never have to deal again. She knew dimly that she was in shock. But the part of her brain that was in charge wouldn't listen. It just wanted to block everything out—make her forget that life outside of her existed.

A warm hand fell on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. She shrugged it off automatically. It was just another part of the buzz that was at the back of her mind.

"Leigh," a voice echoed through her brain, refusing to be ignored. "Leigh, it's okay. Everything is going to be all right."

No, it wasn't going to be all right. The words were cheap and meaningless. Nothing would ever be all right for Uncle Dolan again. He hadn't deserved to be a part of all of this. He was a quirky kind of fellow. He lived out in the country alone and rarely came into town except when he absolutely had to. But Leigh had known him well enough. He was a good man—had taught her how to hunt in the wild like 'wolves used to do; in the days before 'wolves became domesticated and ate meat from the stores like everyone else. He had a wild side, but he had always been good to humans. Now he was gone because of 'wolf slayers.

Rollson needed to be stopped. Leigh understood this now better than ever. If he wasn't stopped, he would continue to hurt so many innocent people. At that moment, the battle became more than just a fight of good versus evil. The fight became personal for Leigh. Rollson was going to pay.

"Leigh," the voice said again and finally she could place it. "Leigh, look at me."

"No, I will not look at you!" Leigh snapped and then did the opposite of what she said. She turned and looked Doug straight in the eyes. She just couldn't hold the anger in anymore. It came flooding out of her in a torrent. "Just go away and leave me alone. I don't want to talk to you. I'd be happy if I never saw you again!"

She could see the shock in his eyes when the words hit him. His face was impassive, but she knew she'd made a dent in his perfect cool. He opened his mouth to speak again but Leigh cut him off.

"Why did you come here anyway? You don't care about us! Any of us! Everything is about what you want—what you feel! The only person here that meant anything to you was Jamie! For once my parents were actually right about something! So why don't you just save your precious Jamie and leave the rest of us the alone!"

She knew she was making a scene and for once she just didn't care.

Doug snapped his mouth shut. His eyes closed off and his shoulders became stiff. He turned away from her with a cold shrug.

What did she care anyway? He could be as cold to her as he liked. She never wanted to talk to him again. Sure, it had hurt to know that he'd rather kiss Amber than her. But what hurt even more was to learn that he was just using her. She was surprised he hadn't tried to kiss her before that.

Another police car had just arrived at the scene. A policeman hopped out of the car, waving his hands. "Doug! Leigh!"

It was detective Tross. Leigh just folded her arms across her chest and refused to answer the call. He was acting as if he were their friend. After all he'd done to them…he could forget that. Leigh was determined just to ignore him.

Doug didn't appear to feel the same way. He strode toward the man with a dark look in his eyes. For a moment, Leigh's heart seized; because for that moment she actually thought Doug was going to punch the detective's lights out.

Instead, Doug took hold of the front of Tross's uniform and pushed him up against the car roughly. He pinned him there.

The detective let of a long string of expletives. "What do you think you're doing?"


	28. Chapter 28

**If you see some funny spelling, it's because this computer insists on spelling things the Canadian way…and I can't get it to cooperate.**

**Chapter 28**

Doug would have liked nothing better than to punch the detective's lights out. He would have loved to work out his aggressions. He settled for pushing the detective up against the car in a threatening manner. The resounding display of expletives was honey to his ears. His anger had been building over the last few weeks and was threatening to explode. Right at that moment, the fury consuming him would have loved to do as much damage as possible. But his conscience put him in check.

For a moment, Doug was scared of himself. He was scared of what would have happened if he didn't get in control of his anger. He was not this kind of person. He could control himself.

"You'll want to let go of me right about now," the detective snapped.

"Give me a good reason," Doug ground out.

"You're walking on very dangerous ground," Tross replied, his hawk-like eyes flashing at being manhandled in such a way. His bony chin jutted out in a stubborn and defying gesture. "It looks as though you're threatening me. If any one of those officers were to turn around…you'd pay in years. Behind bars, Doug. That law doesn't look lightly on threatening police officers."

Doug's hand dropped from the front of Tross's shirt. The man had a point. Doug had really been slipping lately. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Well—he did know what was wrong with him. Tross was wrong with him. Leigh was wrong with him. However, that didn't warrant such rash behaviour.

The dark look didn't drop from his face.

Tross wiped off the front of his uniform where Doug had left smudge marks. His fingers were covered in a dark ash from the burning house. Doug wiped his hands on his pant legs, leaving streaks.

"Now perhaps you can tell me what your beef is," The detective said, obviously refusing to believe that he had any effect on Doug's state of mind. The man was insufferable sometimes.

"How about the fact that you went and spilled all that information in front of the reporters?" Doug asked. "Well? Are you going to take any responsibility for that?"

"What did you expect me to do?" The detective snapped. "I came back to find the friggin' station broken into! Did you think I would just say 'well, golly gee, I think someone broke into my station. How lovely!'? Well that's not what I said. You're as much to blame for my behaviour as I am!"

Doug snorted, waving his hands wildly at what remained of the house. "Well, look what you've caused! You tipped him off! And now a man is dead because of you! Because you couldn't keep your mouth shut!"

"Tipped who off?" The detective asked inquisitively.

"Oh no!" Doug replied. "You've caused enough problems! If you think I'm going to give you another chance to open a can of worms, you're mistaken. This is our fight and you're going to stay out of it!"

The detective folded his arms across his chest and gave Doug a long surveying glance. "You seem to be doing so well at holding the boat up by yourself," he said sarcastically, taking a look at the people behind Doug who were still protesting in loud voices. "It sounds like you've lost most of your support. Maybe it's about time you turned what you know over to the professionals."

"I don't need professionals," Doug replied. "The professionals don't have a clue!"

"Well maybe we would if you'd give us some kind of idea. Doug, we may not have always gotten along in the past, but I am a police officer. I'm willing to do my duty to keep innocent people safe—wolf or human."

"I don't need help," Doug insisted stubbornly. He knew he was probably making another bad judgement call, but at the moment he really didn't care. "But there is something I need."

The detective eyed him suspiciously. "What?"

"Get in the car," Doug said. He moved over to the passenger side before the man had a chance to react. He hopped inside just as the detective let out a retort. Tross didn't like being ordered to do anything. Doug had learned that about him early on. The officer got off on his power trip. But Doug didn't particularly care to walk on egg shells around the detective's delicate feelings. In fact, he was more apt to aggravate them at the moment.

Doug sat inside and slammed the door behind him. He waited for a total of about thirty seconds for the man who was standing outside with his hands on his hips. Doug was prepared to wait all day if he had to. But the detective gave up. He opened the opposite door and stuffed himself into the driver's seat, his gut flopping about as he moved with sharp and angry movements.

Tross slammed his door as well and turned a pair of hawk eyes in Doug's direction. "Now how about you tell me what you want?" Tross snapped. "And then I want you to get your butt out of my car before I decide to charge you for threatening me."

"You're not the one who'll be doing the negotiating," Doug replied. "I will. And I want equipment. I want bullet proof vests, I want guns, and I want you to get hold of some insulated rubber suits. And more importantly, I want some explosives. You got that?"

The detectives' eyes goggled. "And who do you think you are…ordering me? If you want some rubber suits, why didn't you just go to a construction company? Oh, I know! Because you didn't have enough money to pay for them so you just thought you could order the police around. And how exactly are you planning to use the suits anyway? Are you getting involved with electricity?"

"That's none of your concern," Doug replied. "Just get the equipment together and get it to me. I need it by noon tomorrow at the latest. I need to get a move on before we're attacked again."

"You've got guts, ordering me around," the detective pointed out, folding his arms across his chest. He sent another inquisitive glance in Doug's direction. "But do you have anything to back you up or are you just spewing hot air? Because I don't give a crap if you want equipment. If I'm going to be giving up equipment—and I'm not saying I will because I could get my butt fired for doing so—then you better friggin' well give me a part in this operation."

"Why?" Doug smirked. "So that you can get another promotion?"

"What dirt do you have on me?" The detective replied with a sigh. "Because we both know you're not an idiot. You wouldn't be asking for equipment if you didn't have some way to back up your threat."

Doug rolled his eyes and muttered. "Good to know you finally figured that out."

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was starting to sound like Grady. He needed to get a handle on himself before he said or did anything too rash.

"Doug? Out with it our get out of my dang car!"

Doug opened his eyes and looked at the furious detective. He thought he had enough calm now to keep the situation under control. "You released information on me to the press," Doug stated. "Information in conjunction with a crime that I haven't been formally accused of."

He let the words rest for a moment.

The detective's eyes widened. "You wouldn't…" he whispered.

"I would," Doug replied. "And I will if you don't give me that equipment. I will sue you for libel. Forget that, I'll sue the whole dang station. And then where will your job be?"

The detective closed his eyes and let of a long breath. "You know I hate you, don't you?"

Doug only shrugged. "How do you think Leigh felt when you threatened to use her drug use against her? What comes around goes around."

Thinking of Leigh kicked up a mess of bitter emotions in his stomach. He couldn't seem to forget the last words she said to him. They swirled around in his mind, haunting him. But this wasn't the time to be thinking about Leigh. He had a job to do—and darn her anyway. No matter what he said, she'd hate him. She was determined to believe that he was the one in the wrong. And after she had seen his mind. She knew what he was like and she was still willing to believe the worst of him. The accusations hurt more than he thought they could.

He pushed these thoughts away and turned back to the situation at hand.

The detective sighed. "You win."

Doug nodded. "Good. And you'll have the equipment to me by noon tomorrow."

"I'll have the equipment to you." The detective was slowly rubbing his eyes, looking tired. His shoulders had slumped—the fight all but gone from him. He added. "But Doug, I really wish you'd let me come along. I'm probably going to get my butt fired whether I help you or not. At least this way I can protect my investment."

"I'm sorry," Doug shook his head. Looking at the detective, he almost felt sorry for him. He knew that Tross' job was very likely going to go down the drain. But he had more important things to worry about than one man's job. "But I can't trust you. Your loyalty doesn't lie with the werewolves. It lies with the station and its policies."

The detective just shook his head looking so lost.

Doug couldn't say that he liked the detective. He never had. But at that moment, he was being sincere when he said, "I hope you don't lose your job. I'll get out of your car now."

Doug stepped back out into the noise, shutting the silence within.

**Sorry. This chapter hasn't turned out as well as I would have liked. There's something missing, but I can't figure out what it is. I hope you like it anyway!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Thanks to Alanna99 for reviewing. To everyone else, I would love reviews! They really do make my day!**

**Chapter 29**

Leigh stepped out of the shower, wrapping her hair in a white towel and catching the vanilla scent wafting from a small canister at the sink. Her wet toes touched cool linoleum and only her quick muscles were able to catch herself from a sure slip. She smirked at herself in the frosted glass before wrapping another white towel about her middle.

White towels, she thought. You knew you were in a hotel when all the towels were white. It was just a given. She breathed in the heady vanilla scent with a reluctant smile. All in all, it felt good to be clean and healed. She was determined to push all the negative feelings away and just enjoy herself for now. Soon enough she would be on the attack…but for now she would rather just deal with mundane life and get lost in a couple cheesy shows.

She nodded to herself at the idea. It would be good to stretch out and forget for a while. She quickly began to dry off and pulled on some clothes that she had picked up from her house. She'd had to bring enough clothing for herself as well as Amber and Jamie. Both of the girls had lost all their clothing in the fire. Jamie hadn't minded much—seeing as she was still in the middle of replenishing her supply. Amber, on the other hand, had been furious. All her designer clothes were gone for good. And she didn't particularly care for Leigh's clothing style in general.

Leigh snorted, thinking about Amber's reaction. She was sharing a room with the two other girls at the hotel. A lot of families had decided it would be a good thing to stick together…and a hotel presented large enough housing for them all. Besides, Rollson was less likely to attack a public building than a house in the Suburbs. There were no woods here for him to hide his men.

Leigh finished dressing and pulled her hair out of the towel. It fell about her shoulders, damp and blue-black. She stretched, still feeling a little sore and headed for the bathroom door. She could feel the cool air sliding through the half inch line under the door. She placed her hand on the warm metal door handle.

Someone knocked softly on the door before she got the chance to turn it.

"Leigh?" Jamie's voice was muffled slightly by the door. That didn't stop Leigh from realizing that her tone was slightly apologetic. "There's someone here to see you."

Leigh's heart dropped into her stomach. Jamie's tone couldn't mean good things. Whoever had come knocking was obviously choosing to disregard Leigh's demand for some alone time. And Jamie hadn't been able to deter the person.

"Who is it?" Leigh asked, trying to sound nonchalant through the wooden barrier. She crossed her fingers.

"It's your mom," Jamie replied.

Now Leigh could understand the apologetic tone. She understood why Jamie couldn't drive Mrs. Bennett away, though. It was really hard to persuade her mother to do anything when she had her mind made up. Leigh had half a mind to bar the door and wait her out. But she knew that her mother wouldn't leave until she had said her piece. She didn't know what her mother had to be angry about now…but she might as well get the argument over with.

Leigh sighed and twisted the knob. A bout of cool air met her body as the hall was exposed. Jamie was standing there with a pleading expression, wearing a shirt of Leigh's that was both too short for her frame—exposing a good two inches of midriff—as well as a little loose. Jamie had never really had much shape. And the jeans she was wearing just barely reached her ankles.

Her pleading gesture was easy to read…especially since the emotion was palpitating off her in waves that Leigh's telepathic senses could pick up easily. She was hoping Leigh would forgive her for allowing her mother to enter the room.

It was then that Leigh caught sight of her mother, wearing a pink suit jacket with a skirt. She had her arms folded across her chest and one high-heeled shoe was tapping against the floor impatiently. She was glancing at some of the art placed on the walls.

Leigh nodded her concession to Jamie.

Jamie smiled reluctantly, but then her face screwed up in a wince. She began to move toward the door. She sent one last uncomfortable glance between Leigh and her mother before slipping out the door. She shut it softly behind her.

Leigh moved to the desk against the wall that held a small white telephone and an address book and pamphlet that explained Lampton Hill's unique traits and tourist info—although there wasn't technically anything to know. She sat sideways in the chair and brought her knees to her chest, observing her mother warily.

Mrs. Bennett didn't seem inclined to start the conversation. She was still tapping her foot impatiently against the floor.

"Well?" Leigh asked finally. She couldn't stand the strained silence any longer. "You wanted to talk to me?"

She didn't know what she had been expecting her mother to say. Probably yell at her some more. She didn't expect the rather random but pertinent comment.

"That was quite a scare earlier," Mrs. Bennett said, finally looking at her. Her arms dropped from where they were folded across her chest to hang loosely at her sides.

"Yeah," was all Leigh could think to reply. She chewed her lip, feeling discomfort roil through her.

"I thought," she continued a little more slowly, almost reluctantly. "That you were going to die. I was really scared there for a while."

Leigh's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't thought that her mother would actually care. After all these years of yelling at her and then turning around to praise her brothers, the words seemed a little hollow.

The only thing she could think to do was shrug.

The older woman looked a little squeamish. She pulled a fretful hand through her dark curly hair, streaked with gray.

"I've been thinking about what that boy said," she deigned while still refusing to say Doug's name. "And maybe I've been a little overly harsh and judgmental."

Leigh wished that she wouldn't have mentioned Doug. It brought up a picture of his face when she'd yelled at him. She was still feeling guilty about that. After her anger had faded she realized that even though Doug had been a jerk, he wasn't the heartless person she'd been making him out to be. She'd been more than a little too harsh. It was hard not to think of all the good things he'd done for her. All the sensitivity and care he had shown.

He'd let her take his car so that she wouldn't have to walk home at night. He'd tried to protect her countless times. He'd let her sleep at his house when she'd needed a place to stay. He'd defended her in front of her mom.

How could she have told him that he only cared about himself? As much as she wanted to take back the hateful words, she couldn't. Nobody could turn back time. And she didn't know if she'd ever be able to make it right again.

Leigh snorted softly at her mother's comment, pulling her mind from its mulling. "A little?"

Mrs. Bennett winced. "Was I that bad?"

Leigh only shrugged. She didn't really want to answer that question in case it came back to bite her in the rear. But she knew the answer was written all over her face—not to mention it was probably emanating from her in waves. She had forgotten to block her emotions. She'd had a hard time keeping a tight handle on them lately.

"I only did it because I worried about you…because I wanted the best for you."

Leigh wasn't feeling inclined to respond. She was just to weary to make a whole fight over the issues. But the resentment in her burned pretty deep. She wasn't ready to just let it go, especially when she was expecting to be disappointed again.

Mrs. Bennett just stood there, waiting for her to respond. Finally, Leigh said. "It couldn't have all been for my good. There were some times that you just wanted someone to yell at and I was an easy target."

The older woman looked horrified by this statement. She neither agreed nor disagreed with it. Instead, she crossed the room and sat at the edge of one of the beds. Leigh could feel the irritation flowing off her mother that the woman was hurriedly trying to quench.

"I was also thinking," her mother said, disregarding the earlier statement. She was able to speak without sounding too sharp. "That maybe my punishments were a little too harsh. I know you've been pretty good with the boys over the past few years—watching them and all. They really adore you. And they were my primary concern in getting so upset with you. So I was thinking that I would lift my sentence."

Leigh frowned. She couldn't remember which punishment the other woman was talking about. "What sentence?"

"You don't have to leave the house when you graduate," Mrs. Bennett said in a rush. "You might as well stay for the summer. You can use that time to save up some money for school. That way you won't have to pay rent."

A lot of things had become jumbled in her mind over the past while, but there were some things that had also become clear. This was one of them. It felt so good just to have one thought in her mind clunk into a resting spot—to feel comfortable with her decision.

"I want to move out," Leigh replied.

Her mother started to protest, but Leigh blundered over her protests. "I'm ready to move out," she said. "Before, the idea scared me. I wasn't ready to grow up…to leave home. I didn't want to think about the future. But now I am and I think it's a good idea for me to move out. I think it's a good idea to put some distance between us."

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Bennett questioned with a probing look. There was an uneasiness etched in her features and her foot was still tapping against the floor. At least now she was tapping against carpet so it wasn't quite so distracting.

"I'm sure," Leigh responded firmly, feeling rather content with her decision.

Then she had to ask the one question Leigh didn't have a straight answer for. She said it weakly, wincing slightly. "Are you ever going to forgive me?"

Leigh tried to answer as best as she could. It wasn't the nicest answer, but she wanted to be honest with her mother. "Eventually, I hope. But it's not going to be easy. It won't happen right away."

"I understand," the other woman said, although Leigh didn't think that she really did understand. But that was Leigh's fault. She wasn't truly ready to open up and show what she was feeling. Long past scars kept her wary.

Her mother got up from the bed and moved toward her. Leigh stiffened slightly when she realized the other woman's intent. Mrs. Bennett embraced her in an awkward hug. Her perfume clung in Leigh's nostrils. She backed away to look at Leigh with an earnest expression.

"I love you," she managed to say. It was a phrase Leigh hadn't heard in a long time. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time her mother had said that to her.

She was really worried that I would die, Leigh realized as she saw the look on her mother's face. It offered a small measure of comfort. Maybe, slowly over time, she would be able to heal. She wanted to be whole again—was desperate for the comfort that came from letting go of long held grudges. But she wasn't quite ready for it.

With one last forced smile, Mrs. Bennett turned and left the room.


	30. Chapter 30

**Thanks to Kogasha for the review! I'm glad that you liked my stories enough to follow them from fictionpress to fanfiction!**

**Chapter 30**

Doug slipped out into the hall, shutting his door behind him. His feet whispered softly on the carpeted hotel floor as he headed toward the lobby. His ears were open for the slightest sound that was separate from his own. He almost felt as though a pair of eyes were boring into his back, just between his shoulder blades. He knew he was just being paranoid. He'd been paying too much attention for someone to actually sneak up on him. But after a day like today, it was hard not to be paranoid.

He moved reluctantly into the lobby, taking a quick glance at the glass double doors. The parking lot was filled with parked cars. The night beyond appeared to be empty and actionless. It didn't make him feel any better.

He was in a lousy mood in the first place.

The secretary looked up the moment he stepped into view. She smiled at him automatically with her best customer service glance. He smiled back briefly and made his way toward the vending machines humming against the far wall. The desk clerk moved back to her work.

Doug felt guilt churn in his stomach. This girl probably had no idea why all these families suddenly needed admittance into her hotel—unless their story had made it to the breaking news already. She had no idea what kind of danger they were putting her in by staying here. He only hoped that Rollson wouldn't make an attack on a public place. But Rollson had been known to do so before. Besides, he hadn't had much choice in the matter. Once the adults had made their minds up, that was it.

He rummaged through his pockets and pulled out some meager change, feeling his stomach rumble loudly. He hadn't had anything to eat all day and it was nearly six o'clock at night. He pushed the coins in through the slot and heard them clink loudly. He selected a back of chips.

He would have gone out to buy some food from the grocery store if he had wanted to get out in the open. But whenever he went outside, he felt as though he was exposed. Rollson's men could be waiting anywhere. So he was stuck with what was available at the hotel. It really was too bad that the hotel didn't boast a diner connected to its side.

Doug opened the small bag and shoved a handful in his mouth. To be truthful, he didn't really have time to be out shopping. He needed to spend some time thinking up a viable plan. What he had so far was a mess. Most of his army had just quit on him so he was left with the four families he had been fighting against last fall. It was strange to suddenly have his former enemies on his side.

The people who were sticking with him were all out of sorts and frazzled. No one seemed to know what they were doing or even if they'd be able to handle it. Doug knew he hadn't been much help either. He'd spent more time mulling over the fact that Leigh hated him than thinking up a real strategy.

He knew one thing: they wouldn't be able to go for brute force. They had a small group. This is why he'd asked for the explosives. They were going to need to do some damage because it was the only way they were going to make this work. Rollson had the upper hand in able-bodied soldiers and equipment.

There was another problem too. Even if Doug managed to scale the electric fence and reach the other side; the moment his head could be seen over the top of the fence the apartment complex would be on alert. Rollson had video cameras and other gadgets covering practically every square foot of that building. He knew he was exaggerating, but only slightly.

The biggest problem would be planting the bomb in a place where it could detonate before anyone found it. He wasn't thinking about the problem of getting out alive. That was a given for him. He knew he was going to die and so he was trying hard not to think about it as much as possible.

The important thing was that then Jamie would be safe—and Leigh. As mad as he was with her at the moment, he still cared about her. Even loved her. He wished he didn't. It would make her rejection of him so much easier.

He had already tried to tell himself that he didn't give a crap what she thought. Her opinion didn't matter in the least. But the more he told himself that, the more he knew that he did care.

Doug moved over to a little table against the wall that held an orange juice machine, a coffee kettle and a stack of styrofoam cups. He poured himself a glass of juice and sat in one of the lobby seats with a weary exhale of breath. He rubbed his droopy eyes wishing for nothing better than a good night's rest.

He noticed as an afterthought that he had unconsciously chosen a seat that wasn't in direct view of the glass-paned double doors. It had been so ingrained into his head that he didn't even have to think about it.

He downed the orange juice and finished off the bag of chips within a matter of moments. His stomach was still held an empty and dissatisfied dull ache. He placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, propping his chin on the palms of his hands.

He wracked his brains for every memory he had of stepping into the complex. He'd been there several times in his life and had always noted the security features with a practiced and almost jealous eye. But he hadn't been studying the place with the thought that he might have to break into it some day. He tried to think of where there might not be a camera.

Rollson's room for one, he decided. Rollson didn't like being spied on. But he rarely left his office. How could Doug get in there and plant the explosive without anyone stopping him?

The swinging of the front door alerted him from his thoughts. He immediately jumped to his feet, readying himself to move in any direction at will. He let go of the breath he was carrying when he saw the Amber step through the door, juggling several paper bags with the Burger King logo on the side. The smell was intoxicating to his empty stomach.

She spotted him immediately, flipping her curls out of her face as she smirked at his posture with amusement. After the disaster this morning, he would have expected her to be moping around like everyone else. Instead, she was dressed in a tight pair of hip hugging jeans thanks to Leigh's collection and a shirt that didn't really look like it was her style. It was a loose, tourmaline colored top. She'd taken the time to tease her hair into soft curls and doll herself up. No one would have expected that she was in a crisis situation not too long ago.

"Just like your sister," she observed with a mocking smile. She still didn't seem to have forgiven him for his words to her this morning. "Always ready to believe the sky is falling. Relax."

Doug snorted in return as she sauntered toward him, her hips swaying. "Take a page for the book. It just might save your life. Do you really think you should be running around out there?"

Amber shrugged her gaze a little icy. "What do you care?"

"I care," Doug responded and seated himself back down now that he knew there was no danger. "I don't like it when you try to use me, but that doesn't mean I want to see you get hurt."

She let out a tinkle of laughter and moved to sit down beside him, her shoulders relaxing slightly. She deftly handed him one of the bags that she was holding, which he took gratefully. He opened it to find two burgers and a basket of fries.

"I'm not about to change my lifestyle just because a bunch of lunatics want me dead. I have the right to enjoy my teenage years."

"Your funeral," Doug replied and added a bit grudgingly. "Thank you."

Amber shrugged, setting aside the extra bags and leaving one on her lap. She dug inside and pulled up a hamburger, picking at the wrapper uneasily. She sent him a sideways glance as if she were contemplating something. She said finally, "I'm sorry about this morning."

Doug frowned. "You're apologizing?"

Amber's face screwed up in irritation. "Don't be like that! This isn't easy, you know. You could just take the apology instead of making it hard on me."

Doug lifted his hands up in a calming gesture. He understood…it was just that for a moment he had been really surprised. He hadn't taken Amber for the sort of girl who would apologize to anyone. She was headstrong and always determined to be right. Apologizing meant she was actually admitting that she'd done wrong for once. "Sorry," he responded. "Apology accepted."

"It's just…" Amber picked at her wrapper some more. She seemed to be festering with inner complaints that she didn't know how to express. Her words finally poured out in a torrent. "I just get so mad sometimes! Alec makes me so mad. He's always flirting with other girls just because he knows it bugs me. And I just want to get back at him. Sometimes I really want to make him hurt."

Doug wasn't sure how to reply to this statement so he bit into his burger instead. He thought it would be best just to let her vent. He took another bite, taking his sweet time chewing up his food.

He could feel the irritation and the pent up anger flowing off her in a torrent. It was always weird to be able to sense the other 'wolves emotions. Leigh's emotions were second nature to him—like his own; but feeling emotions from the rest of them was just weird and different. It was strange to think that Leigh had bitten him only last night. So much had happened since then that it felt like forever ago.

"And, well," Amber was going on. "I'm sorry that I tried to bring you into the whole mess. It wasn't fair of me."

"It's okay," Doug replied even though it really wasn't. He knew what kind of concession she was making and he didn't want to hold grudging feelings.

"No, it's not," Amber replied automatically, eying him with a reproachful expression. "You don't know how to block your mind very well. I know it's not okay. What's wrong anyway? Why isn't my apology good enough? And you think I'm high maintenance!"

"I'm not!" Doug protested, noting that Amber was getting into a real excited state.

And Amber wasn't about to leave the situation alone. She was like a bulldog once she had sunk her teeth into a situation. She had to have the answer or she wouldn't let up. She folded her arms across her chest. "Why don't you tell me the truth?"

Doug sighed, setting down the rest of his burger. "You can't fix what's bothering me so why don't you leave it alone?"  
"Stop being so stubborn!" Amber growled. "I have a right to know why you're bothered."

"It's not you!" Doug finally said in a snappy tone. "What's bugging me is that Leigh's mad at me."

Amber frowned. "Leigh? What's this got to do with me?"

Doug sighed, feeling lousy and irritable. He didn't really care to share any information with Amber, but Amber would pester him until he did. He said flatly. "She thinks I'm the one who kissed you."

"What?" For a moment Amber just sat their looking nonplussed. Then her expression shifted as her mouth dropped in an 'Oh!' expression. "I had no idea. I would never…I mean—what I mean is that I didn't know you and Leigh—I never would have done that otherwise! You know I wouldn't do anything to hurt Leigh, right? We've been friends forever."

"Well, you just did something to hurt her," Doug replied in a lousy voice. He wished that Amber would leave him alone for a while so that he could mull but he didn't want to be rude. He couldn't exactly tell her to just leave.

"I'm sorry," Amber said again, looking helpless.

Doug didn't respond.

"Fine," Amber glowered at him after a short period of time. "Be like that. Thanks for nothing."

She got up and stalked away. Doug sighed and closed his eyes briefly, trying to block the world out for a moment. But reality would not be deterred.


	31. Chapter 31

**Thanks to Kogasha, Alanna99, and Enchanted Night for their reviews on the last chapter.**

**Chapter 31**

Leigh had just settled down to watch an episode of Gilmore Girls when Jamie stepped back into the room. It was a rerun…but nothing else seemed to be on. Leigh didn't really care all that much. She was feeling pretty content at the moment. She didn't think that anything could affect her mood—except maybe bad news about Doug.

"Hey, sorry about that," Jamie apologized, hopping onto the bed beside Leigh. "I didn't really know what to do. I tried to tell her that you didn't want company, but she wouldn't listen to me. You know, that's probably one of the first times I ever really talked to your mother. I didn't know she was so domineering."

Leigh shrugged. "Don't worry about it. It went okay."

Jamie cringed. "But maybe I should have said something. I don't usually back down like that."

Leigh snorted, sending Jamie a sidelong glance. "I still remember that time you got all up in Amber's face…when you were still new."

Jamie smiled guiltily. "You saw that?"

Leigh laughed. "No, but I heard about it. It's a big event whenever anyone stands up to Amber. Honestly, a lot of people were really happy you did."

Jamie's smile dropped and she shrugged. "She's like a sister to me now."

Leigh bit her lip…knowing that she had been gossiping. She began to flip through the channels, pretending that she hadn't been affected by Jamie's covert reprove. She loved Amber like a sister too, but sometimes she really wanted to throttle her. Amber rarely saw things beyond her own point in the universe.

And right now Leigh was particularly mad at her, but she was trying not to be. She had never disliked Amber for sneaking around with half of the male population at Lampton Hill High School. It was only when the offence struck close to home that she found herself bristling. Leigh knew it was completely hypocritical of her.

"So what are we going to do," Jamie asked to change the topic, "about the situation with Rollson? We've lost our army now."

Leigh sighed, shutting her eyes briefly. "I don't know. I've been trying not to think about it. I keep hoping that Doug will come up with the answer—he always does. I know it's bad to leave the problem on Doug's shoulders. It's just…it seems so overwhelming."

"Speaking of Doug," Jamie said with an inquisitive glance. "What were you two fighting about earlier today? You sounded pretty mad. I take that back—furious."

Leigh cringed. "I know," she said, being truthful and open. She was starting to get used to being forthcoming with her feelings. "I was a complete jerk. I told him that I never wanted to see him again. What am I going to do? It'll be totally mortifying to go up and apologize to him. I don't know if I have the courage."

Leigh felt her cheeks reddening just thinking about it. "Besides," she added. "I don't know if my pride will let me. Not after what happened."

Jamie frowned, pulling her hair back into a ponytail as she listened to what Leigh was saying. "Wait a minute. What happened?"

Leigh shrugged sheepishly. She didn't really want to tell Jamie. For some reason it would bug her if Jamie knew that Doug was anything but interested in her—especially if Jamie knew that Doug had kissed another girl. She opened her mouth to speak anyway, pushing her pride aside.

But before she could speak the door burst open and Amber stepped inside, looking miffed. She was carrying several Burger King bags. She tossed one to both Jamie and Leigh and kicked her foot out behind her in a fluid motion. The door slammed shut. She flopped onto the double bed adjacent from the one Jamie and Leigh were sitting on.

"These pants are killing me," she said to Leigh, her voice a little too sharp. She slumped onto the bed with almost a harassed expression. "Don't you own any hip-huggers?"

Leigh snorted, not feeling at all sympathetic. She was still a little mad at Amber. It was hard not to be. "What? So that I can show half my butt every time I sit down?"

"That's the whole point. But you need to buy cute thongs to go with it," Amber glowered back at her.

Jamie laughed lightly. She didn't seem to have been taken down a notch by Amber's mood. "What happened?" She asked. "Did you have an argument with the receptionist downstairs?"

"No," Amber muttered sulkily. "The customer service was fine. I was having an argument with your brother. He's being a moody jerk again."

Jamie winced. She seemed to be wrestling between defending Doug and asking what the fight was about. In the end, she just said with a sympathetic look. "It seems everyone's mad at him lately."

At this comment, Amber sent Leigh a long and appraising look. Leigh bunched her shoulders up and changed another channel, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny. She wondered for a moment whether Amber knew what had happened between Doug and her. She hoped not. That would only make the situation that much more embarrassing. And now that Amber had sunk her claws into Doug, she would probably be very possessive and jealous—even if Doug wasn't even technically her boyfriend. Jealous to the point that she would turn sour toward Leigh for a while.

Leigh could feel her stomach grumbling, but she didn't know if she could eat right at the moment. At least Amber wasn't looking at her anymore. Leigh could see the other girl out of the corner of her eye. Amber was tracing her finger along the bedspread pattern with a pained expression. It looked as though she were fighting some personal battle in her mind.

Jamie was the only one who didn't seem to notice the tension in the air. Or if she did notice it, she wasn't mentioning it. Leigh didn't blame her. Amber looked like a tightly stretched rubber band ready to snap.

Leigh bit her lip and channel-surfed back to Gilmore Girls. The commercial had ended. She tried to get caught up in the storyline, but was failing miserably. She couldn't help but wonder what was going on in Amber's mind.

There was a stirring noise as Amber got to her feet and dumped her uneaten food onto the bed. Leigh expected her to leave the room, but she turned instead to look at Jamie and Leigh. She spoke finally, looking slightly murderous. "Leigh? Do you think that I could talk to you outside?"

Leigh's stomach flopped queasily. She sent Amber a sidelong glance. "Depends," she said slowly. Her reply was only half-joking "Are you going to try to knock me through a wall?"

Amber snorted, a slight smile twinging in the corner of her lips. Despite this, she still looked ticked off. "No," she said. "It's not you that I'm mad at."

Here we go again; Leigh thought and let out the breath that she'd been holding, clambering to her feet. Her movements weren't at all graceful or refined as normal. Her muscles were too fatigued to work properly.

She wasn't at all in the mood for all these tête-à-têtes. But they seemed to be occurring anyway. She followed Amber out the door.

Jamie looked after them briefly with a curious glance. She seemed to decide that it was none of her business. She just shrugged when Leigh looked back at her and turned back to the show.

Leigh shut the door softly behind her and leaned against it. She folded her arms across her chest, feeling suddenly vulnerable and discontented. The hall air seemed cold and unfriendly. She could feel the hairs rising on her arms.

Amber flopped up against the wall next to her, using her arms to catch the wall and slow the impact. She leaned into it with a sigh. "I really didn't want to tell you this—" Amber started but Leigh cut her off.

"It's okay," Leigh replied, swallowing the bile in her throat. "I think I know what you're going to say. Don't worry about it. I'd rather not talk about this."

She reached for the knob at her side. She really didn't want to hear about the kiss between Doug and Amber. It was already burned into her memory. Amber could have Doug if she wanted. Leigh wasn't going to put up a fight—because that's probably what Amber was doing: asserting her territory. She didn't want to be in the middle of the mess, especially when she would only end up getting hurt even more.

"Wait," Amber grumbled. "Will you just listen to me for one second?"

Leigh exhaled, letting her hand drop from the handle to hang limply at her side. She closed her eyes briefly to gather up some energy to remain calm. All she really wanted to do right now was to snap out in any way she could.

The happy mood that she'd been experiencing earlier was completely gone. And she'd thought it would have taken a lot more than this to make it vanish.

"Okay," she said finally. "What do you want, Amber?"

"I'm trying to do you a favor!" Amber replied. "I don't really want to because that means helping Doug and he's being a real pain in the rear right now. But this isn't just about Doug."

Her eyes snapped open and she looked over at the blond girl who was giving her an irritated look. "Amber," she said. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that Doug never kissed me," Amber said. "I kissed him. It was all me."

Leigh was too speechless to respond.

"I can't believe I'm actually saying this," Amber added miserably, "but he's not even slightly interested in me. I mean, how is that possible? This has never happened to me!"

Leigh almost snorted with laughter and not only because Amber's comment was so vain. It was as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She took in a long shuddering and relieved breath.

"He's in love with you," Amber added finally, looking a little reluctant. "It would have been fun to pursue him…to see how long he would hold out. I like a little challenge. But you're my friend," she looked at Leigh now, totally serious. "And I could never do that to you. So I'm going to wash my hands of him."

Leigh had never seen Amber act so selfless before. The knowledge warmed her heart. She spoke finally, her voice coming out soft, almost a whisper. "Thank you."

Amber just shrugged. "Good riddance. He's moody, you know—and totally anti-social sometimes."

Leigh raised her eyebrows. "And I'm not?"

Amber smirked openly, all in fun. She teased. "You've got a point there."

Leigh didn't take offence.

Then another thought occurred to her and she buried her face into her hands and felt her cheeks turn a bright and humiliating red. She swore vocally.

"What's wrong now?" Amber asked, not the least bit sympathetic.

Leigh wouldn't have expected her to be. It just wasn't in her nature to coddle over other's emotional issues. Leigh wanted to cry out to release some of the pent up embarrassment and guilt. But the hotel hallway was definitely not the best place for her to be so vocal. Besides, Amber probably thought she was already half insane, this would clinch the assumption.

"And after all of the horrible things I said to him!" She still had the heels of her hands jammed over her eyes. "How am I going to apologize? How am I going to make it better? Ugh! I feel so embarrassed."

She lowered her hands just in time to see Amber shrug her shoulders calmly and unsympathetically. "You'll think of something."  
"And that makes me feel so much better," Leigh muttered under her breath. She took a deep breath. In a way, Amber was right. She would think of something—because she had to.


	32. Chapter 32

**Yay! I finally wrote it! And yay for it being a longer chapter than normal! Thanks to Kogasha, Alanna99, enchantednight84, incarnated-soul, I-Love-Moony, and Kalika Scott for their reviews on chapter 31. Sorry this took so long in coming! -Becca**

**Chapter 32**

Doug didn't have his gun. He'd left it at his condo and by now it was probably swarming with Rollson's men. The only thing he had was the cell phone Rollson had given him. He realized a little belatedly that it had probably been bugged. The information gleaned from his one call to Grady and the news would be fairly incriminating evidence, but not enough to prove him guilty. Rollson must also have some spies in town.

Doug glanced at his watch impatiently. It was a little after noon and the he still couldn't detect Tross' car in the parking lot below. He leaned against the wall and tried to ignore the nervous butterflies in his stomach. He needed the detective to get here now—before anyone decided to check what he was up there. Because Doug had decided to go in alone, and he suspected that no one would be up for that idea. It was best not to let them know.

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Yes?" Doug asked, waiting for a reply before opening the door.

"It's me," Jamie's soft reply came back to him through the wooden barrier.

Doug moved to the door and slid open the dead bolt and pulled the door back. Jamie stood there looking tall and thin and frail. He knew she was a lot stronger than she looked. Countless hours of fighting technique practice together proved it. But her looks were deceiving. And she would always be his baby sister.

He held out his arms and she moved into them, giving him a long hug.

"I missed you so much," she said. "And we haven't had any time to catch up. Everything's been so crazy."

"I missed you too," Doug replied a little wistfully. This was the first time he'd hugged her without being so painfully aware that she wasn't human anymore. It was too bad that this was probably the last time that he'd ever see his sister. The last time that he'd ever see any of them for that matter. He had a hard time pulling back from the embrace. Her sisterly affection was the one small comfort he still had. He only wished that he could find some way to say goodbye without tipping her off.

He let out a long breath.

Jamie pulled back then, looking concerned. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he nodded, giving her a hesitant smile. "I was just thinking about how young you are."

Jamie snorted at this.

"Just keep yourself safe, okay?" Doug said. "You've got too much life ahead of you to waste it all now."

Jamie shrugged her fine-boned shoulders. "What choice do I have?" she asked him. "What choice do any of us have? Rollson's not giving us a choice, so we'll have to fight."

Jamie pulled her straight hair back from where it framed her face. "Have you got any plans?" Jamie asked. "I've been thinking about it and I'm drawing a blank. If only the other wolfs hadn't bailed out on us."

Doug knew that he had to put on a good show now. This was the part that mattered. Jamie had to think that he was still indecisive. He shrugged his shoulders and set his mouth in a grim line. "I'm working on it, Jamie. I'll think of something. And soon. We can't stay here like sitting ducks."

Jamie nodded. "I was thinking the same thing. We're way too conspicuous here."

"How about we plan a meeting for tonight?" Doug suggested, hoping she couldn't tell what he was up to. Jamie was good at reading people and knowing what they were up to. But Doug had years of practice in tricking her. It was necessary sometimes. And this was one of those times. "Bring everyone. I'll think of something by then. I'll make myself."

Jamie nodded. Doug almost let out a sigh of relief, but he held it in. He'd fooled her. Now he needed to go downstairs to see if the detective was there.

"Can you do me a favor?" He asked Jamie.

She nodded tiredly. He suddenly realized how weary she was. He didn't blame her. She'd probably been the go-to girl, making sure that everyone was okay and feeling semi-secure. "What do you need?"

"I was wondering," Doug said with a wince, feeling bad for placing a pointless mission on her shoulders. But it was the only way he could think of sending her away without making her suspicious. "if you could check up on everyone. I want to know who's going to be an asset and who's going to be a problem and anything else we might need to know. And give them pep talks if you need to. I need them to be able to work together."

Jamie nodded. "I'm on it."

"Thanks," he said and they gave each other a quick final hug. "And Jamie?" Doug added. "Don't wear yourself out."

Jamie shrugged indifferently. Doug knew she was hiding most of what she was feeling. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. You have more important things to worry about."

As soon as she had disappeared down the hall, Doug stepped from his room, shutting the door firmly behind him. With a quick glance he began to move toward the lobby. A tall figure with broad shoulder rounded into the hall just as Doug reached the corner. Doug moved to the right to avoid a collision but the guy moved with him. Their shoulders collided and Doug nearly spun around with the force of the movement.

Laughing dark eyes turned to stare him in the eye. "This isn't over. I saw what you did."

"Oh, yeah?" Doug folded his arms across his chest and responded in a slightly sharp tone. "And just what did I do, Alec? Maybe you should be thinking about what you did! I don't want any part of this. I never did."

"So do me a favor and don't bring me into this, okay?" He lifted his hands as if to ward off Alec. He gave him a hard look and turned to walk away.

"Then maybe you shouldn't have kissed my girlfriend!"

The sound of a door opening resounded in his ears. "He didn't kiss me," a new voice entered the conversation. "I kissed him. So if you have a beef, take it up with me."

Doug turned back to see Amber's head ducking out of a room to the right. A face was right behind hers with a lank of long black hair and a pair of midnight blue eyes staring out curiously. He hadn't realized that he and Alec had made that much of a racket. They probably hadn't. Wolf ears were notoriously sensitive to the slightest sound.

Alec only barked out discontentedly. "And that makes a difference?"

So Alec had known. He'd suspected as much. Alec just needed someone to get angry with, someone to work out his frustrations with. Doug shrugged and began to turn away. He didn't have to be part of this. He couldn't help but take a glance at Leigh as he was turning. This had to be news to her. It was puzzling to find she didn't show any surprise on her face. Instead, her cheeks were slightly read under his gaze.

Amber was opening her mouth to make some retort but Doug wasn't paying attention to her. He knew that he had been looking too long in Leigh's direction. He moved his head in a slight nod to make the situation less awkward.

Then he turned and left, hearing the sounds of Amber and Alec arguing behind him. He had no time for this. He had more important things to do. But he couldn't help the roiling feeling in his stomach, and he couldn't seem to push the picture of Leigh from his mind. He was leaving the situation untied. There was more that he needed to do, seeing as he would probably die within the next few hours. But he was too stubborn. He hated his pride just then for not allowing himself to turn back.

He nodded to the desk clerk as he passed and pushed through the front doors. The warm sun slanted over his skin and he heard the distant sound of cars driving in the background. Everything seemed so normal, so in place. It seemed so weird to think that things could be so wrong. That in a matter of a few short weeks, his life had been turned completely upside-down.

There was a conspicuous-looking police car sitting next to his truck with a man in the driver's seat. Tross sat there, chewing on something—probably his lunch. Doug moved over to the side window and it slowly rolled down at his approach.

Tross took another bite of his bagel.

"Do you have it?" Doug asked, his face impassive. He wasn't about to give Tross an opening. He couldn't let Tross see how muddled and confused he was inside.

"I got it all," the detective replied begrudgingly and eyed Doug with a scrutinizing gaze. "You'd better be happy with what I got you, because it was all I could afford to take. The boss will have my hide if he finds out. Only two bullet proof vests. And I could only get hold of two insulated rubber suits. I've got guns and plenty of ammunition and a bomb that would blow up this entire hotel. New technology…I'm surprised I was even able to get my hands on it. You sure as heck better be happy because I'm going to be skinned alive."

Doug nodded, ignoring the detective's sour tone. "Let's get this stuff in the back of my truck. We can put the tarp over top so no one can see it."

Tross placed his bagel on a napkin in the passenger's seat and got to his feet with a sigh. The two began to surreptitiously move the equipment from one car to the other. When they were finished, Doug knotted the tarp tightly over the equipment that he'd secured in place.

The dectective was eying him again with a penetrating look in his hawk eyes. His angled face held a suspicious look. "You're not planning on doing this—whatever you're doing—alone, are you?"

"No," Doug replied stiffly.

"Don't lie to me," the detective replied in sharp undertones. "I don't know exactly what you've got in mind, but I don't like it. It's dangerous. Let me come along."

"No," Doug repeated stubbornly.

The police man turned him around roughly with a hard look. "Don't tell me you're this stupid. It's a suicide mission! Even I can see that—and I have no idea what you're going to do."

Doug shrugged and looked up at the hotel. "At least they'll be safe," he said stubbornly. "I can do this. And if I don't come out alive? Well, that's life."

"Doug," Tross growled. "There are two suits."

"And I'm going to take the other one with me," Doug replied, folding his arms across his chest, "just so that you don't get any bright ideas."

The detective gave him a sullen look and hopped jerkily back into his car. "Fine!" he snapped. "Your funeral!"

He slammed the door to the car. With one final furious glance, he squealed out of the parking lot.

The detective was right. It was his funeral. But at least he had had a goodbye moment with Jamie. Leigh was the only untied ribbon in his life. With a sigh he started around the truck to the driver's side.

"Doug!"

He knew that voice. His heart beat quickened as he looked up. Leigh was charging through one of the doors. It took her less than an instant to recognize him across the parking lot. She hurried toward him.

Without even thinking, Doug moved back around the truck to meet her. She stopped short a foot from him, looking flustered. She took a deep, gulping breath. "Doug…I—I um…"

Doug swallowed hard, pitying her flustered state. But he didn't know how to help her. He didn't know what to say.

"Amber told me yesterday—I'm so sorry! I never—I shouldn't have said those things. I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean any of it. How could I have said those things?"

She was rambling off, on the verge of hysteria.

Her eyes were so pleading that he couldn't hold onto his pride. He felt the rest of it drain away. He reached out a hand to brush a stray strand of hair that was falling across her face. "It's okay," he whispered.

He pulled her to him and then they were kissing. A long hard kiss. And for a moment, neither of them could resist. They just kissed over and over again. He could feel her heart beating hard against his chest. He only wished that he could get closer. She tasted so sweet. He was rolling on a wave of sensations.

Slowly he pulled back. He had to leave before he lost his resolve.

"I have to go," he said, their faces so close that their breaths mingled. He gave her one last kiss before moving away.

"But—" Leigh began.

"No, we'll talk later," he told her gently. "I have to go." He added as an afterthought. "I love you."

Her eyes widened for a moment to show that she had heard him and then her nose sent her mind in another direction. She sniffed the air surreptitiously. Doug felt his heart pounding in his chest. He hoped she couldn't smell it.

"You have explosives," she said suspiciously. "Or a bomb. I can smell it."

Doug felt his heart fall into his stomach. He shrugged. "Yeah. We're going to need them soon enough—once we've got a plan figured out."

"Doug?" Leigh frowned, chewing her lip. "Where are you going?"

"To pick up some more equipment," he lied.

She took hold of his arm and turned him back just as he began to turn away. She sent him a hard look. "Don't lie to me," she whispered. "You forgot to block your mind."

Doug's stomach flopped. "Believe me, Leigh, this is for the best."

"Oh no you don't," she replied. "You are not doing this alone. I won't let you."

With that, she brushed past him and hopped into the passenger seat of his car. The door was swinging shut when Doug caught it. He wrenched it back open again. "Get out of the truck, Leigh."

"No," she refused stoutly.

Doug warned, advancing on her. "If I have to manhandle you I will. I will pull you out of there."

Leigh raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. "Why don't you go ahead and try?" She said, bracing herself. "I'm not leaving this truck and you can't make me. I'm just as strong as you are, so don't forget it."

Doug let out a frustrated moan. "Don't you see I'm doing this for you?"

"Well, I love you too," Leigh snapped. "So stop being so stubborn and let me help you! You're not going to win this argument."

Doug let out a weary sigh and leaned his head against the open door. "Leigh, please," he said weakly.

Her only response was to pull on the seatbelt and lock it into place.

Doug let out another defeated sigh and shut the door. He moved around the side of the car and hopped in. He turned on the engine with a manic flourish. Nothing was going as he had planned.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Leigh was a little short of breath by the time they reached the Chicago city limits. Her stomach felt like an empty pit. It grumbled, wrenching and tightening the stomach muscles. She knew it was coming—the pain like a charly horse enfolding the stomach. She'd only felt like this a few times in her life, but she knew the feeling well.

She realized that she hadn't eaten any real food for a couple of days now. Sure, she'd eaten the burgers Amber had given her, but that was cooked meat. It only served to make her stomach feel full. She needed some real nutrition.

She gasped, taking in a full dose of Doug's scent. She had an almost uncontrollable urge to reach over and grab him in a vise-like grip and bite in. She was hungry enough that she could have eaten him all.

She hated the way the bloodlust struck so quickly with little warning.

"Leigh, are you all right?" Doug's voice was concerned. He hadn't spoken for the whole trip, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. But it was clear to see that something was wrong with her, and Leigh knew Doug couldn't stay mad at her for long.

His hand reached over to caress her cheek. Her face was smooshed into the dashboard, but that didn't stop her from getting an overwhelming scent of his fingers. She could almost taste them.

"Doug," she growled, speaking sharper than she had intended. But she needed to get the point across because in a second, she'd lose control if he didn't get some distance from her. "Get your freaking hand off me!"

She didn't look up at him as his hand dropped away. The sensory stimulus would have overloaded her brain. He smelled human, felt human. Her every instinct was telling her to bite him.

And then the pain struck. Her stomach twisted in agony. She let out a soft whimper as it attempted to consume the rest of her practicality. The bloodlust was attempting to take over her mind, body and soul.

"Leigh?" Doug asked again. He sounded alarmed.

"Get me to a supermarket," she managed in a gasping breath, "or so help me I'm going to bite you right now, and it's not going to be a good bite."

"Oh!" There was a dawning realization in his tone.

Leigh could feel the car speed up and she held onto the dashboard for dear life. The tires squealed at every turn. She didn't know why she forgot to eat all the time. It was so dangerous. Sometime she was really going to hurt someone. It was only her luck that she hadn't managed to yet.

She heard Doug curse under his breath. A moment later, a siren started up behind them. Doug didn't slow his pace—not once.

Leigh didn't have time to think about the police. She needed to keep all her attention on being wedged in this chair.

"Publix coming up," Doug announced grimly with another squeal of tires. He swore again. "Those police are going to wonder if I'm hiding something."

Leigh groaned inwardly. This was all her fault. What were they going to do? She had only made things ten times worse for Doug—seeing as they had an explosive that would make an entire apartment complex fall in on itself. Not to mention the guns and other incriminating objects that had to be under the tarp.

"I'm sorry," Leigh said on a cringing breath. She knew that sorry wouldn't fix the problem, but she was too incapacitated to actually think of something to fix the situation.

Doug squealed into a parking space. "Do you want to go in while I take care of the problem?"

Leigh shook her head vehemently, her hair bouncing about her shoulders. "I'll bite someone. There'll be all those mothers toting along their children…" Leigh let her sentence trail off as another spasm caught her.

"I'll be right back," Doug jumped from the car, slamming the door behind him. The wolf part of her brain tracked his footsteps pistoning across the carpet like any hunter would. The boy could really book it when he needed to.

There was an insistent tap at her windshield. She tried to ignore it. If she rolled down the window then she'd be able to smell them. That was the last thing she wanted, but the police wouldn't be deterred. The tapping increased.

"Ma'am, I order you to roll down your window immediately!"

Leigh groaned, still stuffing her face in the dashboard. She reached out weakly for the manual window opener. She turned it to open it quarter way. The scent was nearly overpowering.

"Do you know that the driver of this car was going 30 miles over the speed limit?" The cop announced in an authoritative tone.

Leigh groaned. "Can you just give us the ticket and forget about the whole spiel?"

"I don't think you realize the seriousness of your actions, miss," the cop growled in return. He obviously didn't like her insolent tone. "I know you teenagers think you can get away with everything, but there are laws to uphold."

"So give me the ticket!" Leigh snapped.

"I think you should look up so that we can talk, face to face," The cop replied smartly.

"I really don't think you want that," Leigh replied through clenched teeth as another spasm hit her. She gasped.

"Miss?" The policeman's voice softened slightly. "Are you all right?"

No, Leigh thought. I sure as heck am not all right. And it doesn't friggin' help that you're standing a foot away like a nice little piece of prey. You have no idea how good you'd taste, do you?

"Miss—"

"I'll take care of this," A voice interrupted. The voice sounded annoyingly familiar.

The cop took his attention off Leigh to assess the newcomer. "I don't know you. You're not from this jurisdiction. This is my duty."

"And I've been tailing these guys for weeks. They're my case. I have the papers, if you'd like to see them."

Ah, she definitely knew that voice. It was Tross. She let out a tiny little breath of relief as the cop finally yielded to Tross' demands. There was the sound of a door shutting and tires rolling away.

"He's gone," Tross informed her.

"Thanks," Leigh replied gratefully. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Making sure you and Doug don't get yourselves killed," Tross replied. "And making sure that you're able to return my belongings so that I don't get my butt whooped."

"How are you going to get inside?" Leigh asked.

"I got equipment of my own," the detective replied in a crafty voice. "But don't let Doug know there were extras or he'll just cause a problem. I'm sure you can be reasonable. You know that you can't do this alone."

"Point taken," Leigh groaned into the dashboard.

"Leigh, are you all right?" He was the third person to ask her that today. Her nerves were worn so thin that she almost snapped at him for the comment, which was really silly. He was only showing concern. That was no reason to have a spaz.

"No," Leigh replied. "Can you do me a favor and not stand so close to the window? I haven't eaten in days and you smell so good."

"Catching your drift," the detective replied, backing up a step. Leigh could hear his feet on the asphalt. There was a type of wonder in his voice, as if he still couldn't believe that she was actually a werewolf. "I should leave anyway. Doug will probably be out any minute. I'll be watching your back."

"Glad to hear it," Leigh replied. "And Tross? Thanks for everything."

The detective snorted. "You wouldn't have said that a few days ago."

"No," Leigh replied, "but I'm saying it now."

"Well, I've got to go," The detective replied, but there was so sound of feet leaving. The detective was pausing. "I'm sorry," he said finally. "Sometimes I get so caught up in my job that I forget to be humane. I should never have threatened you."

Leigh nodded into the windshield, whimpering. "It's okay," She managed. "Now get the heck out of here before I decide to eat you."

The detective left. He didn't need anymore encouragement. There were probably very few people who would stick around if Leigh had warned them that she would eat them otherwise. The thought was amusing, but she refused to let herself chuckle lightly. That would only make the hunger pangs worse. They had subsided for the moment.

About three minutes later, Doug showed up. She knew this because she had nothing better to do than count the seconds. Besides, it seemed to focus her attention on something other than the pain.

She could smell the steak, even before he opened the door. She arose from her scrunched position and practically tore the package from his grip. The plastic surrounding it was a nuisance. She managed to through and began to chew quickly. Her teeth sharpened immediately to be able to chew the meat faster. It slowly began to sate her belly and the hunger pains fell away.

"Sorry that it's just plain," Doug said, looking at her expectantly.

Leigh shrugged and spoke around her food. "Don't mess with what's good."

She downed the steak in about ten minutes.

"Hey," Doug asked with a frown. "Where did the police go?"

Leigh grinned. "Could you believe that I used my wonderful charm?"

Doug snorted. "What did you say?"

Leigh shrugged. "Oh, just that my pregnancy was causing me problems and that I made you take me to the store to grab my vitamins. I made you drive me so fast because I was in so much pain." Leigh batted her hand out in an offhanded gesture. "They let me off with a warning."

Doug let out a little laugh. "Fast thinker."

Leigh felt a little whisper of guilt. It fell away when she saw the crooked smile that was spread across his cheeks. He looked so good like that. She almost wanted to kiss him again. No, she did want to kiss him again.

She leaned over in her seat.

He held up his hands to stop her. "Leigh, I love you," he said, not dropping the smile as he added. "But I'm not going to let you kiss me just after you've been eating raw meat."

Leigh grinned and settled back in her seat. "Can't hurt to try."

Doug brought the truck into gear.

"Some other time," he told her, backing out of the parking space. "If we live through this, that is."


	34. Chapter 34

**Hey peoples! Look at me, updating so quickly! Kidding. Anyway, thanks to Kogasha, I-Love-Moony, Alanna99, Katie, and Pharoseer for all their reviews! Anyway, I realize that my writing has taken a bit of a dip lately and I'm trying to get back on track! I hope this chapter makes up slightly for how poorly written the last couple have been. I think it's not quite as well-written near the end of the chapter, but you be the judge. Hope you like it and please review!**

**Polished Gem**

**Chapter 34**

Doug turned the truck down an alley, spitting up gravel beneath the tires. He turned a small bend, narrowly missing a jagged and broken bottle. The alley was littered with all kinds of odds and ends, but mostly old beer bottles. The fences hiding the alley from view of the houses were old and rotting with more than a few missing posts. Doug brought the vehicle to a halt in a little nook. The car would not be seen from either side of the streets.

He took a glance over at Leigh, who was biting her lip nervously. Something was bothering her. He'd seen enough of her mind to read her expressions well. He would almost say that the look in her eyes was…guilty.

He cleared his throat slowly and her shoulders jumped edgily at the sound. They'd been driving in silence from the grocery store. The silence had been mostly imposed by Leigh, who only answered with vague "mm hmms" whenever he made a comment. Eventually he had given up on conversation altogether. Something was definitely on her mind.

She was looking at him expectantly now.

He cleared his throat again and spoke. "Is everything all right?" He asked, sending her a searching look.

"Of course!" Her tone came out a little sharper than she probably intended. A little defensive, Doug's mind supplied, whirring suspiciously.

He became preoccupied with the wheel for a moment. He wasn't going to push her if she refused to tell him what was up. He trusted her. She wouldn't do anything to jeopardize his life or the mission—at least not intentionally.

Leigh appeared to grow agitated as the silence lengthened. "I—yes. No. Oh, I don't know! Yes, there is something wrong with me."

Doug glanced up through half-lidded eyes. He didn't want his gaze to be too imposing. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Leigh shrugged helplessly, her hair bouncing off her shoulders as she did so. She looked up at him every so often, but her eyes always returned to the dashboard. She admitted finally, "I lied to you."

Doug's brow furrowed. "Lied to me?"

"Yes," Leigh replied miserably. "I didn't tell the police officer that I was pregnant. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't think about much more than pain at the moment. And well…"

Doug took off his seatbelt and turned in his seat so that he could face her directly. "But why did you lie to me?" He asked, wishing he could penetrate through that wall that she kept over her emotions. He could still feel the faint buzz that indicated her presence to his wolf senses—or what was left of them.

"And did we get a ticket?" He asked as his thoughts took hold of another train. He continued almost frantically. "Did he find out what's in the back seat? Why did he leave? What does he know? Leigh, tell me."

When she didn't reply right away, he said. "Leigh, please. I won't be angry with you. Just tell me the truth."

"Tross took over. He told the other cop that this was his case." Leigh spoke with a wince of expectation. She seemed to be waiting for Doug's reaction. When he didn't reply immediately, she cut the silence with a quick plea. "I know you don't like him. I don't really like him either. But Doug, he's actually trying to help us. And he feels sorry for blackmailing me."

Doug raised his half-lidded eyes to take in her frantic appearance. She looked almost fragile, bundled up in the passenger's seat with her knees folded up to her chest. She looked so tiny and vulnerable, like the day he had laid eyes on her—when she had been standing in front of her house, chewing her lip.

"And Doug, I don't think we can do this on our own! I'm scared."

"You shouldn't have come," Doug replied bluntly.

Leigh's vulnerable and pleading mouth turned down in a scowl. "Yes, I should have," she said stoutly. "Someone had to make sure you didn't kill yourself."

"So you want me to end up killing you and me in the process?" Doug argued. "Is that any better, Leigh?"

Leigh's feet dropped from their vulnerable position to land on the truck's carpet. She turned in her seat so that she was facing him too. Their knees were touching, with the stick shift jammed between them.

"I have as much right to fight this war as you do," she countered, her face flushed with exasperation. "That was my uncle that died back there, Doug. If Rollson thinks he can get away with hurting an innocent wolf, then he's got another thing coming."

Doug opened his mouth to reply but ended up closing it as she anticipated his reaction with. "Stop being so stubborn! I'm not going to leave you!" Suddenly her eyes were shining. "Do you think I could live with myself if you went to fight Rollson by yourself and never came back?"

In an instinctive reaction, he reached out and gathered her into his lap. He knew from earlier experience that she wasn't as light as she looked. Her small frame was weighted by compact muscle mass that barely showed, giving her more of a feminine, voluptuous appearance with a hidden and steel strength.

Leigh allowed him to pull her in and rested her face in his shirt. "I understand," he said with a sigh. "I just don't want to lose you."

"If you die, you will lose me," she mumbled into his gray sweater. Then she pulled back and looked up at him. "You're not mad at me, for lying? Tross didn't want you to know that he was here. He knew that you'd tell him to go away. But Doug, I think we need him."

Doug sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears. "No," he said, feeling resigned and more than a little weary. Today had been a long enough day without all that was to come. "I'm not mad at you. I suppose you're right about Tross—and about me being stubborn. I just—I've been so furious lately that I haven't been able to think straight." He added in a murmur. "You do odd things to me."

She smacked him lightly in the shoulder, but she was grinning. Then she got this look like she was remembering something. She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out a small vial. TryptoKeri. She grinned barbarically and downed the substance.

"Now I'll be nearly indestructible," she informed him with a crafty grin.

"Aw, screw the raw meat," Doug muttered and planted a kiss on her lips. This could very well be his last opportunity. Leigh had a higher chance of getting out of the compound alive than he did. She kissed him back, her lips warm and soft under his.

He pulled back, thinking of something. He swore under his breath. "I don't have Tross' number," he announced. "There's no way we can coordinate any kind of plan if we can't talk to him."

Leigh shrugged, but he could sense some tenseness in her shoulders. "He's resourceful. Hopefully we'll be able to work together anyway—if we can find him."

Doug nodded. "Probably too late. I'm not willing to give Rollson any more chances to formulate plans. If we don't go now, we might never get a chance."

Leigh nodded, hopping out of his lap with one final quick kiss. "We should get moving. We're heading to the center of the building, right? Then we can do a lot more damage with the bomb."

Doug nodded. "Yes. Or as far as we can get without a whole army chasing us. We're going to have to destroy all the cameras we see. We'll hide the explosives in one of the vents that run along the hallway. We need to set it to go off in no more than ten minutes. Preferably less, so that they don't get the chance to find it and disarm it. Then we're going to have to book it, or we'll be dead meat."

"Or," Doug added, sending an acknowledging nod in Leigh's direction. "I'll be dead meat. You might not with that TryptoKeri."

Leigh shrugged. "Even wolves aren't indestructible. If I'm close enough to that bomb, I'll be dead meat too."

Without the need to talk about it, they both hopped out of the truck, shutting their doors behind them. The doors made two, nearly inaudible clicks as they closed. Their feet whispered across the gravel until they reached the truck bed and began to roll up the tarp slowly.

He pulled out the two rubber suits. He handed one to Leigh and took another for himself. He then took out the bullet proof vests. It's heavier than it looks, Doug thought. But then, he would have expected that with the hard metal fibers interwoven into the fabric. He fitted himself into the rubber suit also. It was more than a little uncomfortable and it inhibited his movement more than he would have like. But it was doable.

He nodded to Leigh and then put the explosives in a backpack which he strapped to his back. She replied by chewing her lip and sending out a furtive glance in all directions. Then they pulled out the guns and ammunition and made sure the guns were stocked.

Too bad it's not an automatic, Doug thought wistfully as he cocked back the revolver and let it swing at his side. If there were any passerby's, it would have looked like Doug was being careless with the gun through their eyes. But his shoulder was tensed, and his arm was ready to take aim at the slightest disturbance.

The apartment complex was only two blocks walk from here. He took one last wistful glance at his truck before he jutted his chin in the direction that he and Leigh should follow. In this neighborhood, he might very well come back to find his car stolen or messed with. That is, if he came back at all.

Leigh moved to his side, bumping him lightly in the shoulder in an encouraging gesture. She smiled grimly, but there was a grim determination in her eyes that no teenager should know. But he himself had known it at her age.

He nodded back his encouragement and said on a whisper of breath. "How about if we tackle that big security guard?"


	35. Chapter 35

**Thanks to Alanna99, Kogasha, and I-love-moony for their reviews. Sorry this took so long everyone! Hope you enjoy it! And please please review!**

**Chapter 35**

Leigh realized that Doug was joking about tackling the security guard when she caught sight of him. He patrolled along the perimeter, his massive shoulders moving back and forth in tune with each step. She didn't know if she'd ever seen a guy that big--except maybe on the television. He had enough bulk to smack them both flat. She also doubted that he'd feel much of a blow through all that muscle.

Doug and she were flattened against the side of an old and rusted car. Every so often she would take a quick glance through the broken glass window above her. The compound was right across the street. The fence looked so harmless and unnoticeable, followed by an old and crumbling building beyond. Doug gripped her wrist and pulled her back down again.

She sent him a questioning glance.

He responded with an urgent look. She could faintly feel caution emanating from him. She wished that she could always feel his emotions. There was something so comforting about being bathed in his emotions and reactions, even the negative ones. If he would only let her turn him into a wolf so they could always be together that way...but he would never go for it. Besides, it was too late to be thinking about such things. They were about to break into a compound and she was afraid that he would lose his life in there.

And with all that was facing him, he still had the presence of mind to worry about Leigh being seen by the enemy. It warmed her heart.

"It's okay," she whispered. "Everything will be alright."

They both knew she was speaking empty words. But if made her feel better to utter them. Doug understood immediately and only nodded to her. He knew her so well. As well as she knew herself. She was glad that she'd let him see her for what she truly was before the end. She reached out and squeezed his hand. A moment later she felt the pressure of his return squeeze.

His lips were moving soundlessly, counting down the seconds. Three, two, one...

At zero, he took a quick glance up through the shattered window. He nodded to her and whispered next to her ear. "We have about two minutes before he comes back around the side."

She nodded and without needing to explain to each other, they both took of. They darted across the road like two fleeting smudge of color. Leigh crouched beside the fence, bunching her muscles for one giant spring. She release herself, propelling her body to top of the fence in one burst of speed. She hung there for a moment to see if Doug's human legs were up to the task.

He exploded upward to meet her, hovering on extended hands.

She grinned unabashedly. He was forever amazing her. He was more wolf than human in so many ways. They slipped over the other side and fell. Her werewolf muscle knew just what to do, landing perfectly. Doug was right behind her.

Then the wailing began. Great loud sirens hit her ears and it was all she could do not to clap her hands over her ears and cower like any sensible wolf in the wild would do. She clapped her hands over her ears and ran for the back door instead. She could feel the tremor of the earth coinciding with Doug's feet pistsoning against the freshly mowed grass. If not for that, she wouldn't have known he was there as she ran blindly for the doubledoors.

She pulled a hand away from her ear to twist the knob and found it slick with blood. She cringed and twisted. It was locked. Figures.

Doug ran at the other one, hitting it hard with his shoulder.

It didn't even shudder. They shouldn't have been surprised. Of course Rollson wouldn't install flimsy doors. The man was thorough. They were probably being watched by a dozen cameras as they worked. They didn't have time to wrestle with a door. Leigh pushed Doug aside and held up the gun, firing at the deadbolt. A clean hole appeared between the two doors.

Leigh pushed. Still more resistance. There must be latches near the top and bottom of the door. She shot the gun in each of the spots respectively, feeling the pressure of the gun kicking back in her hand. Now when she worked on the door, it was unresistant in her grip.

They hurried into the dimly lit corridor, smashing every camera in sight. She was finding it hard to run in the heavy, uncomfortable rubber suit. But it would be better than frying to death on their way out--if they made it.

She smashed at a few more cameras as the corridor turned and widened into a hall.

Doug grasped hold of her wrist. "This way," he said.

She kept pace with him, running down a maze of hallways. She frowned to herself, feeling a little uneasy. They hadn't seen one person since entering the property. They should all be running to head off the invaders, but no one hurried into sight. The corridors were empty and silent, except for the soft sound of their feet pattering against the floor.

Doug stopped suddenly, gasping for breath. "Here," he breathed. "We'll leave it here."

Then he turned and battered a camera that was turning on the wall. It crumpled backward under the blow, groaning in protest. Doug hit it one last time and the camera was useless. "I hope there aren't any miniature cameras," Doug breathed.

"Doesn't matter," Leigh replied, helping to pull the weighted backpack from his shoulders. "In ten minutes, this place will be in smitherenes."

Then she voiced her fear. "Doug? Why hasn't anyone tried to stop us yet?"

He shrugged, pulling the zipper open in a great flourish. "I don't know. They might not be here. He could have anticipated us...but at least we'll be able to destroy the building...and all the equipment inside--unless it's been moved."

Leigh glanced at the vent running along the wall as Doug worked with the explosives. She knew nothing about bombs, so she thought she should leave that venue to his expertise. Her fingers curled over the vent and she ripped it from the wall. The nails popped free from the plaster, leaving long jagged holes in the wall. She set the metal covering aside and leaned over to glance inside. The air duct curved, leaving a nice little nook for the explosives to sit in.

"Aha!" Doug announced, lifting the bomb. He instructed. "Watch your head."

She moved out of the way and he fit it inside the little opening, moving a few more things.

"Help me get this back in the wall," she suggested as he dusted his hands off with a proud nod.

Together they lifted the vent, pushing all the nails back into their previous positions. They moved back, peering at their handiwork. It looked as though it hadn't been touched at all--except for one tiny crack in the mudd by the corner nail.

The sound of thudding feet alerted them.

"Let's get out of here," Doug said on a breath of air.

They both took off in the direction they'd come. It was hard to tell which direction the footsteps were coming from. It sounded like they were coming from behind, but when she listened carefully to the left, they also came from there too. And the right. And the front. Maybe the building was built to disconcert excellent wolf hearing. All she knew for sure was that the footsteps were coming closer and that wasn't a good thing. They were moving as fast as they could--faster, it would seem, than humanly possible. And yet the feet were somehow gaining.

They came to a point where two hallways branched together and suddenly Leigh understood. They were closing in from all four directions. And they'd be within sight within moments. She glanced at Doug fearfully.

He jutted his head in the direction of the door they'd slipped through earlier.

"Just keep going that way," he nodded. "Well have to break through the wall of people."

She nodded and moved in front of him, hurrying along just a pace ahead of him.

"Leigh?" he demanded. "What are you doing?"

"Keeping in front of you," she responded tearsely. "Think of me as a living shield."

"Leigh," he growled out. "Don't. You're going to get hurt."

"And you're going to die," she responded just as sharpely. "So just shut up and let me help you!"

She stopped moving and he nearly bumped into her. She grabbed his arms from behind her and wrapped them around her stomach. "I need you to hold me," she instructed. "Just in case I get shot. That way we both get out of here without being blown into smitherenes."

"Leigh--"

"Just do it before they get here!"

Doug sighed defeatedly and gripped her. Instinctively, he probably knew that it was the only way they were going to get out of here alive. They rushed forward as one unit, their legs jogging along in time. Leigh could feel the rhythm of his feet vibrating up through his body and out his arms into her and went with it. She held the gun at ready.

They probably looked pretty comical when they moved around the curve and met the thick wall of men in dark suits, all holding guns trained at the Leigh/Doug unit. Leigh didn't think. She only acted. She fired and cocked the weapon back and fired again, faster than was humanly possible. Men were falling back everywhere. But for some reason, they were getting right back up on their feet. She'd finished off all the bullets in the gun before she realized that the men were also wearing bullet proof vests.

She swore under her breath. She didn't want to take the time to reload, so she gripped the other gun at her side. Doug had freed one of his hands from around her waist to use his own gun.

By this time, shots were being fired back in return. Leigh gasped as she felt bullets diving into her bullet-proof vest and blowing the air out of her lungs. It was all she could do to keep the two of them in an upright position with all the bullets slamming into her body. One smashed into her arm, cracking through the bone as it flew passed. Luckily, the arm was already healing. But that didn't stop her from feeling the excruciating pain that was lancing up into her shoulder.

She lifted her good arm and shot a man point black in the skull. She shuddered as he feel to the ground. I'm a murderer now, she thought sickly and shot at another man.

They were too close now, overwhelming Doug and Leigh. Someone wrenched the gun from her fingers.

Someone had placed the barrel of a weapon against the side of her head. She could feel the cool hard metal through her hair.

"You're going to pay for that!" A rough voice announced.

Leigh gasped on a breath of air, feeling Doug's tightening arm about her middle. She waited for the pain to explode into her skull.

"Wait!" A voice anounced, followed by a string of curses. "What do you think you're doing? Rollson wants to personally dispatch of them. It is not your prerogative. Lower your gun immediately!"

The gun dropped away from her head. Leigh sighed in relief, even though it was only a temporary solution.

"Take them to Rollson's office!" The man commanded again.

The group pulled the two apart, binding their arms behind their backs and pushing them forward roughly. Leigh barked out angrily when one of the men came close to fondling her.

"We'll be making the rules around here," a man snickered to her left and shoved her forward again.

Leigh only growled out and made it very clear what she would do to the next guy who attempted to touch her inappropriately. Doug also let out an angry burst from her side. There were a bunch of snickers in return.

"Enough!" The commanding voice called out. "We're not a bunch of children here! Do what Rollson wants!"

They were pushed ever closer to Rollson's office, and there was an incessant ticking in the back of her mind reminding her that there was probably only about six minutes left before the building exploded.


	36. Chapter 36

**Thanks to Alanna99 and I-love-moony for being such frequent reviewers. Love you guys. You make my day. Here's the next chappie! Hang in there, it's almost the end.**

**Chapter 36**

Doug was disappointed and furious. He'd known many of these men and it was disgusting to see them act like animals. Sure, some of them talked about what they would do to a shewolf if they caught one. But they were just locker jokes. Everyone knew that the goal of the operation was the most important thing--not dehumanizing the enemy. He'd always abided by these rules. And he'd thought they did to--until now.

Lucky for Leigh, the commander wasn't in the mood to fool around. He snapped at his men, telling them to behave properly.

You never know how you'll react until you're faced with a situation, Doug thought bitterly. These are not my friends anymore. _They're not_. He hadn't realized how much he'd distanced himself from his old world until now. There was no going back. And more importantly, he didn't want to.

Leigh shot him a glance and he sent her a faint smile that said 'well, this is it.'

And it really was it. They were now standing only a few feet in front of Rollson's office. A few of the 'wolf hunters moved out of the way as they were forced forward. They let out little protest. There wasn't much they could do at the moment. The enemy far outweighed them. But then Doug knew this was the case--right from the beginning. He was actually surprised that there weren't more of them. He only counted out about three dozen men. There should have been twice that many--or more.

One of the men rapped his knuckles loudly against the door. The sirens had stopped a long time ago, but Doug's ears were still ringing. If he could see himself in a mirror, he probably would have seen dried blood. He knew both his eardrums had burst earlier. The noise had been defeaning. He wondered how Rollson's men had handled it. They probably had some professional earmuffs handy.

The door swung open to reveal a man in his early forties, scratching at his beard with a contemplative hand. When he caught sight of Doug, his features turned down in disappointment. Doug only stared back darkly, refusing to look down. After a moment, Rollson sighed and stepped back, the door moving even further inward.

"Well done," he remarked shortly to his men. He didn't seem to be in the mood for pleasantries. Then he commanded. "Rigby, Anderson, bring them in here. Everyone else, back to your posts."

There was a chorus of groans. One man spoke up. "But we wanted to see what you do with them."

Rollson closed his eyes and rubbing them with a weary hand. He held up his other hand, waving it downward. The protests died. "Now," he said, opening his eyes once more. "The whole affair will be on video tape and you will be able to access it later. Now go to your posts."

Rollson's voice was far from loud or angry, but it had an air of command that Doug had always admired. The men--and a few women--made no more protests and moved off down the halls in different directions. Within moments, the crowd had dispersed.

They were pushed into the office roughly.

Rollson moved around his desk and took a seat. He picked up a small remote and pointed in the direction of the display cases. They began to moved apart as if placed on rollers. Doug's eyes widened when he caught sight of the depression in the wall behind. There, conveniently placed were two handcuff-like apparatuses, that were mounted to a steel plate on the wall.

Once they were secured, there would be no getting out. He took a surreptitious glance at his watch. They had little more than four minutes and the seconds were ticking down a lot quicker than he would have liked. But it was all worth it, if he could take down Rollson. He had to stop him from hurting anyone else.

But Doug wasn't going to consign himself to death without a fight. And he sure and heck wasn't going to let the same fate happen to Leigh if he could help it. Now that the men had dispersed, they had a better chance at escape.

He sent a quick glance at Leigh, knowing she'd understand. With a quick twist he ripped himself from his captors grasp. His hands were bound, but he could still work with this situations. He kicked upward, driving his foot into Rigby's nose. The man flew back a few feet from the force of the blow. He might have flown farther if he hadn't connected with the wall behind him, creating an earsplitting crack.

A quick glance at Leigh told him that she had also managed to wriggle from her captor's grasp.

Before they could run for it, there was a defeaning boom. Leigh toppled forward with a neat round hole in the back of her skull. And then blood began to pool. He hurried to her side, wishing he could pull her up into his arms and carry her away from here. But the cords holding his wrists prevented him from doing so.

He cried in frustration as he fumbled to pick her up somehow.

Anderson slammed the door shut. The lock clicked of it's own accord, barring them within the room. Doug turned around to face Rollson with fury burning in his eyes, his breath coming out in quick pants.

"Anderson," Rollson said, giving the man a significant glance. He didn't even deign a glance in Doug's direction.

Anderson gripped him from behind and shoved him in the direction of the wall. Doug stumbled forward, managing to catch himself with his practiced reflexes. He was turned roughly, and he felt the cool metal clasping his arms. He heard the click as the handcuffs closed completely about his wrists.

He had a horrible vantage point of Leigh from this wall. He could see the blood matting in her dark hair. She stirred slowly, groaning. He let out a breath of relief, even though they'd be dying soon anyway. She was propelled to her feet by an impatient jerk and shoved next to Doug. There was a resounding click as her arms were also encircled.

"I thought as much," Rollson mentioned from his seat at the desk. He hadn't moved once. He was observing Leigh as she was looking about the room blearily. "TryptoKeri, isn't it? Such amazing stuff. But it will wear off eventually."

He lifted up a gun he was holding. One of the newer technologies that he revelled in. It was the same type of gun Doug had used on that billionaire--the one that shot out millions of nearly microscopic needles all in one single second.

"And you can be sure I won't miss."

Doug growled at the comment. He looked at Leigh to see her reaction. She was still too out of it to worry to much about Rollson's threat.

"Touch her and I'll kill you," Doug stated.

"Now I really don't think you're in that kind of position at the moment, Doug," Rollson said calmly, looking up at him. There was a certain disappointment in his features. "It's really too bad. You were one of the best at my disposal. I had great plans for you."

Doug didn't deign a reply.

"Come now," Rollson said, leaning forward. "Why didn't you bring anyone else. Did you really think you could take on this whole base alone with that piece of pond scum?"

Doug shrugged.

"They're like rodents, Doug," Rollson continued, getting to his feet. "Preying off all the good in our lives. They take away every good thing until you are left with nothing but your hatred and your revenge. They did it to me. They did it to you. Why are you turning from everything you have ever fought for? Everything you've ever believed in?"

"Maybe because everything I ever thought was wrong," Doug replied bluntly, straining against the cuffs. It was no use. Even if he had wolf strength, he would not have been able to break free.

"You don't actually believe that, do you Doug? You know their evil," Rollson said taking another step forward and emphasized the point by placing a hand on Doug's chest. "You know it. Here."

Doug shook his head vehemently. "Don't you get it? We were wrong. We were all wrong. They're people just like we are. They have feeling and emotions and wants just like we do. Sure, there are evil wolfs. But there are evil humans. Would you wipe out an entire race for the sake of a few evil people."

Rollson's face turned hard. "You've been deceived."

"I haven't," Doug shook his head. "I've seen into a wolf mind and I know the truth."

Rollson looked at him, swallowing sickly. He trembled slightly. Doug couldn't tell if the trembling was brought on by fury or something else. He whispered on a breath of air. "That's heresy."

"No," Doug shook his head, trying to explain. "It's like skydiving. It's like letting go of all your reservations and just enjoying the ride. Humans should be like this. If they could only see into each other's minds--if they could only feel the pain they were inflicting upon others. There would be no war. There would be no hatred anymore, because everyone would understand."

His words didn't bring out the reaction in Rollson that he had expected. Rollson let out and angry cry and gripped the front Doug's shirt, shaking him back and forth. Then he dumped his suit jacket to the floor. He tore his shirt away, the buttons popping down the front. He bared his neck for Doug to see.

Doug felt a roiling sickness as he caught sight of the gash marks running from just below the collar mark almost too his shoulder. They were clearly wolf teeth marks. There was no mistaking. Doug felt a wave of dizziness. And the wolf hadn't even given him enough serum to allow him to heal.

"I've born this mark," Rollson said through tight lips. "For twelve years. Do you want to know who gave it to me? Sidney Torrison. Does the name ring a bell?"

"My mother," Doug replied in a resigned voice.

"Yes, the same man that killed your mother," Rollson replied. "Or had you forgotten? He let me see his mind out of pure spite. I know what it's like Doug. It was full of evil and malice. He wanted to make me suffer--he wanted to make every human suffer. And he didn't even have a real motive. He just wanted to kill for the enjoyment of it. He got some sick pleasure to see others tortured. _That_ is what a wolf is. _You_ are the one who has been deceived."

For a moment he was tempted to believe Rollson. Everything from his past screamed at him, telling him to believe Rollson. His very upbringing was so ingrained in this belief. He felt himself shudder in indecision.

I can't keep changing sides! He thought, furious with himself. And furious with everyone who was trying to convince him either way.

He took a deep breath and looked over at Leigh who was watching him. She looked so calm for what had befallen them, as if she were resigned to death. She gave him a small smile, and her eyes told him that she knew what was going through his mind. There were no secrets between them.

There was a moment of clarity then. Leigh wasn't evil. She couldn't be if she wanted to.

"I love you," she mouthed. "No matter what happens."

Even if he turned on her. But he would never do that--could never.

He turned back to Rollson. "I'm sorry you had a bad experience. But I know the truth."

Rollson was breathing hard, but he had calmed himself somewhat. He shrugged coldly. "So be it."

He turned back to his desk and sat down. "It will all be at an end soon."

"Sooner than you think," Doug muttered under his breath. Too too soon for his liking. He bet they had no more than two minutes left...if even that much time.

"I'll keep you alive," Rollson informed Doug. "For a while, anyway. I want you to see when I kill her," he nodded cruelly to Leigh. "I may even keep you alive long enough to find out what happens at the hotel. Did you notice my staff was a little short today?"

Doug felt his stomach drop from under him.

"As you can see, the world doesn't stop while you're planning. They left shortly before you arrived. In fact, the attack should start within about twenty minutes. I don't suppose you have any more reserves of TryptoKeri, do you? Your group must be running low."

Leigh, who had been silent until now, let out a snarled protest.

Doug swallowed, shaking his head. "Don't do this," he said, nearly pleading with the man. But Rollson was beyond being reasoned with. "Do you really want to murder that many innocent people? Do you want their lives on your head?"

"Do I want to kill a bunch of unfeeling beasts?" Rollson returned with an indifferent smile, but his eyes were tinged with sick glee. "Of course I do. Someday our world will be rid of their kind and we can live without fear."

Doug sighed, closing his eyes. He could see imprints of the room against his closed lashes. How had he failed so miserably? How had things gone so wrong?

Something nudged into his shoulder. He opened his eyes. It was Leigh's shoulder, brushing his. It was the only real comfort she could offer him. She whispered. "It's not your fault."

He only shook his head helplessly. He smiled slightly at her. They were going to die in a minute. Probably less.

"I love you," he mouth back in return to her earlier statement.

And then something slammed against the door to Rollson's office.

**_And the bomb explodes and they all die. The end. Just joking! (Just so you know, this is not the end!)_**


	37. Chapter 37

**Thanks to I-Love-Moony, Alanna99, Ande, and SweetBubblegum for your reviews on chapter 36. I love getting reviews. Anyway...just thought I should let you know...this still isn't the end. There's the attack on the hotel to deal with as well as a wrapping up chapter. So I'm thinking there're three more chappies to go! Polished Gem**

**Chapter 37**

The noise seemed to catch most of the people in the room off guard. Leigh took it in a stride, but was unable to do much about it. Anderson had purposely tightened the handcuffs until they dug into the skin, giving her poor circulation. Her fingers were practically numb, and every time she tried to wiggle them tiny uncomfortable needles shot up her arm.

Rollson was the next to react while Anderson was still standing in shock. The gun was in his hands just a millisecond before a gunshot erupted from beyond the door. A foot slammed into the door and it banged open, but the person beyond was standing just out of eye view.

Leigh didn't rely on her eyes. Now that the door had been forced open, she caught a clear masculine scent. It was a scent that she had learned to hate over the past few weeks, but it now came as a relief. Tross.

But there wasn't much he could do against these men. He was just a menial cop who thought big and worked for the big promotions. He didn't know anything about real crime. Sure, he'd gotten lucky a couple of times, but she doubted that would be enough—even if he were fairly resourceful.

Anderson finally came to his senses—or at least he shot into movement. Leigh wasn't sure how intact his brains were. He charged out of the room, gun held in front of him with a throaty yell. He was either extremely brave or extremely stupid. There was a resounding shot and Leigh didn't have to wonder who had taken the bullet.

But Rollson wouldn't be as easy, and Rigby was starting to groan from his spot on the floor, blood matting at the back of his head.

"Idiot," she heard Rollson mutter beneath his breath. A whisper no human ear could have picked up.

"And that would be our back-up," she heard Doug say calmly, confidently.

When she turned to look at him, there was a lazy smile plastered to his features. He looked like he was ready to stretch back and didn't have a care in the world. She knew differently, but his ruse was very convincing.

Rollson slowly moved to his feet, the gun held out in an unwavering hand. Instead of moving toward the door, he headed in their direction. Leigh frowned, trying to figure out his intent. His feet whispered along the floor toward them, all the while watching the open door with an experienced eye.

Quick as lightening, Rollson reached over and gripped a giant tuft of Doug's hair, jerking him forward so that he could be clearly seen through the door if the attacker chose to show himself. He brought the gun to Doug's skull.

"Show yourself!" he commanded. "Or I'll pull the trigger!"

Leigh snarled old, wriggling her arms helplessly. They were no use, but her legs were unsecured. And Rollson was standing so close. If she could just reach out far enough…but Rollson might get a shot in before he fell.

There was a heartbeat of silence where no one moved or did anything, and then the detective stepped into sight, looking ridiculous in the rubber suit. But there was nothing ridiculous about the way the gun was clenched in his grasp. He held his arm tightly at his side, not openly threatening Rollson for the moment.

"Now I don't think you want to be doing that," Tross remarked in his best official and commanding tone.

"And why not?" Tross asked. "I would have gladly spared his life if he had decided to see the light, but he will not. He is nothing but a danger to me if I let him go. I might as well kill him and be done with it. And my men will be here shortly to deal with you."

Leigh supposed it was now or never. Either way, Doug was going to die. She might as well cling to the slim hope that the gun would slip before he squeezed the trigger. She felt the muscles tense in her legs.

"If he is going to die anyway," Tross said, and she could tell by the tiny imperceptible movement in his eye that he was trying not to look at her—trying not to draw attention in her direction. He knew what she was up to. "You give me no motive to keep my gun lowered."

Tross smirked, but he looked a little perturbed, as if he could see something in Tross' eyes too. His shoulders stiffened as he responded. "I give you the slim, almost impossible hope that you might actually be able to pull this maneuver off—if you're smart enough."

Leigh struck. She brought her legs up in the air, momentarily suspended by the cuffs that held her—and it hurt like heck as they cut even deeper into her wrists. She brought her legs up above Rollson's head, extended and rigid in the axe kick form. Putting all her rage and frustration and every ounce of strength behind the blow, she slammed down toward his head.

Unfortunately it didn't go quite as well as planned because he took that moment to shift and whip around to meet her. Her blow met with the arm that was carrying the gun and it fell from temporarily lifeless fingers.

She kicked out again, before he could get his act together. It seemed that Doug had the same idea in mind because he caught Rollson in the back at the same time her own blow met with his head.

Rollson fell back, groaning. There was a gun at his head within moment.

"I wouldn't move if I were you," the detective threatened.

"Tross!" Doug interrupted. "The keys! We need to get out of here!"

Tross gave him an abrupt nod and shoved the gun right up against Rollson's temple. "Where are they?"

Rollson gave him a dark and furious gaze, looking like a caged panther. "Go on," he hissed. "Do it. Put me out of my misery."

Leigh groaned. She'd only known Rollson for a little less that a few minutes, but she already knew he was stubborn and unbendable. He would continue to believe wolves were bad no matter what Leigh or anyone else said. It was really too bad in a way. She felt a certain sympathy for him. She never knew that she'd be able to feel that way about someone who was trying to kill her. But Rollson honestly believed he was doing what was right—he honestly believed he was helping humanity by hunting wolves.

"He's a liability," she told Tross. "He won't tell you anything."

"In that case," Tross said and he brought the gun up. Leigh cringed. Tross brought the butt down hard. It connected with Rollson's skull and he fell unconscious.

Tross looked up at them with a grim smile. "I couldn't very well have him causing problems when I was trying to get you free."

Doug groaned. "You'll never find the keys in time!"

"Not likely," Tross replied. "Which is why I'm not looking for them."

With that he pushed Doug to the side so he could have a good view of what was connecting Doug to the wall. There was a resounding shot. Doug moved away from the wall, his hands still bound behind his back.

Tross also moved Leigh to the side. He used his shoulder to keep her from swinging back wearily. She realized suddenly how tired she was. She closed her eyes tightly as the shot resounded again. She felt this great force take hold of the metal that was connecting her to the wall. She nearly spun with the movement.

"Let's go," Doug said tersely.

But before he had moved, Tross grabbed his wrists from behind him and looked at the watch Doug was wearing. "I thought so," the detective muttered, cursing.

"What?" Leigh asked in alarm.

"You don't want to know," Tross replied. "Just move!"

That woke her up from her stupor. They ducked out of the office at a sprint. It was hard to move at an all out run with her arms firmly bound behind her back. They didn't help with balance in that position, but somehow she was managing.

They didn't have far to go. Rollson's office was near the front doors. She could hear the comforting sound of Doug's and Tross' labored breathing on either side of her as they dove for the door.

The doors crashed opened, showing no resistance to them and nearly ran into three men. They stood in a semi circle, guns trained on them. They stopped mid-dash, holding completely still. Leigh knew the bullets wouldn't kill her, but any sudden movement would probably set the guys shooting. And they might hit Doug. Or Tross.

"And where do you think you're going?" One of the guys asked, taking charge of the situation.

"Lars," Doug remarked with almost disdainful recognition.

"I'm not exactly happy to see you too buddy," Lars returned. "Traitor."

"How would you like my face to be the last one you ever saw?" Doug replied, his voice was both desperate and dangerous at the same time.

Leigh glanced over at him, trying to figure out what he was up to.

"Is that a threat?" Lars replied, his eyes narrowing.

His companions kept their weapons steadily pointed at Leigh and Tross. Leigh wasn't very concerned with a little bit of pain at the moment. She was more concerned with Doug. He seemed almost wild and full of reckless abandon—like he was ready to fall apart…or explode. It worried her to see him like that.

"Sure is," Doug replied darkly, his arms twisting behind his back. He looked Lars hard in the face. "Because if we all stand here for one moment longer, we'll specks of meat for the vultures."

Lars' eyes narrowed even further. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the freaking bomb that's about to explode!" Doug snapped.

The look in Doug's eyes was too sincere, too freakishly feverish for even these guys to deny. It was obvious that he was telling the truth. Lars' companions dropped their guns and broke for the gate. Lars was moving after them a millisecond later.

That was Leigh's cue. She dove into motion, followed by Doug and Tross. They hurried for the gate. To Leigh's amazement, the three men had jumped onto the fence with bare hands and were beginning to climb. Apparently it wasn't turned on at the moment. They hadn't opened the gate like Leigh had hoped.

Leigh glanced up at the daunting fence with a helpless shrug of her shoulders. "No what?" she asked.

Doug was giving a horrified shrug in return. There was no way they'd be able to climb with their arms bound behind their backs. It was impossible.

But then, Tross was gripping her and lifting her up onto his shoulders. "Can you stand?" he asked. "If you can, I think I can hoist you to the top."

Leigh nodded, not even thinking about the fact that Tross probably couldn't see her nod. She moved to trembling feet, balancing precariously atop the detective's shoulders. With a quick thrust she was sailing to the top of the fence. She managed to catch it with her legs, suspended and dipping inward. She wrenched her body in the other direction and allowed herself to topple to the ground outside the compound. She landed in a heap.

A few moments later, Doug landed at their side. Then they heard the disgruntled huffing sounds of the detective as he tried to climb up the side of the fence. Now she understood why it had taken him so long to catch up to them. He wasn't exactly in the kind of shape it took to climb a fence deftly.

"Come on!" Leigh muttered, distinctly aware that the time was ticking ever near. It could be ten seconds away. It could be now. Either way, the detective wasn't moving quickly enough.

Just as he reached the top of the fence, balancing unsteadily, there was a great explosion. The noise surprised him so much that he toppled over the side, nearly landing on Leigh. She had the urge to clap her hands over her ears, but resisted it. She gripped one of Tross' arms and Doug took the other. They took off, followed by a wave of heat that curled the ends of her hair and gave her an instant sunburn.

They stopped across the street and toppled onto the sidewalk, panting. Leigh glance back, hearing a great cracking noise. Then the apartment complex lost all definition, caving in on itself.

She was faintly aware of people running out of there homes to see what all the commotion was about, but the only thing that filled her vision was the decrepit building, now doused in hungry flames.


	38. Chapter 38

**Yay! One more chapter to go! Sorry I've been gone so long. I do intend to finish this story. I've just been preoccupied with midterms and writing stories on Fictionpress. Sorry! Anyway, thanks to I-Love-Moony, Alanna99, Shadowed Echo, and Incarnated-Soul for their reviews...Hope I haven't kept you waiting too long!**

**Chapter 38**

Doug watched the blazing building for a few moments, revelling in the air he was breathing and the beating of the heart in his chest. It was a simple pleasure just to know that he was alive and that Leigh's form was beside his, brimming with living energy.

He took a glance at the detective who was gasping for breath. He wasn't exactly in shape. Doug smile and did something he never thought he would do. He pounded the detective on the back. "You did good. Very good."

The detective nodded. He didn't reply because he was still panting for breath.

Then another thought occured to Doug and he sprung to his feet. He spoke urgently. "Come on! We need to go!"

"What are you getting so worked up about?" Tross said between breaths.

Leigh shot up in realization, her wolf muscles perfecting the move. In one smooth motion she was on her feet. "The hotel! Tross' men are going to attack the hotel. And they're going to get there before we do!"

That got the detective moving, despite the fact that he was still panting with exertion. He pulled a cellphone from his pocket and pressed the speed dial and began barking into the phone. He must have been talking to the Lampton Hill police department. He spoke frantically for several minutes before he shut off the phone.

He swore under his breath.

"What?" Doug asked, his stomach churning with new worry. "They're not going to help?"

"Oh no," Tross assured him. "They'll help. But there are only five police officers in the Lampton Hill vicinity. They won't be able to pull much of an operation. They're going to try and evacuate the hotel before Rollson's men get there. Staves and Tennor are going to watch the two routes into town, pretending to be on the alert for speeders. If they see a big group of cars moving in, they'll send an alert."

"It'll have to do," Doug replied grimly. "Let's go. We need to help as much as possible."

Leigh and Doug ran for the alley and Tross turned off in another direction. He held his breath for the last ten seconds before he caught sight of the truck, his shoes crunching on broken glass and other pieces of litter strewn about the old alley way. He let out his breath when he turned the corner. His truck sat glistening and untouched. Maybe this neighbourhood wasn't as bad as he was making it out to be. In any case, it was always better to be safe than sorry.

They both jumped into the car, still dressed in the uncomfortable gear. Doug didn't take the time to remove his. He put the car into gear, spitting up gravel behind him as the truck spilled out into the street. With a few deft twists, Leigh had disrobed herself from the rubber suit. She kept on the bulletproof vest.

Doug was starting to worry how long the TryptoKeri would last before it left her system. He hoped it would last...in case they ended up having to fight.

He wondered what the men would do once they found that their boss, their supplies and their home were all history. It might be enough to call off the operation altogether. After all, this battle was a personal one. It was all about how Rollson appeared to the 'wolf community. He wanted them to fear and respect him so that they wouldn't get any ideas. But now that he was dead, would his men really honor that request? The Lampton Hill wolf community wasn't exactly their biggest threat. There were the chicago wolf gangs to worry about.

Once they had reached the highway heading out of the city, Tross turned on his flashing lights and began to speed ahead. Doug pulled in behind him and the two whizzed away.

Leigh snorted at a few people glancing over from other cars. "Now they really will think I'm pregnant."

Doug chuckled grimly. He wasn't really in the mood for jokes. There was a heavy presence in the air, like a smothering blanket about to fall over them. The tension was palpable. He knew that Leigh was only trying to lessen it, but it was hard to get into the frame of mind where he wanted to joke.

Leigh was at his side. She was safe and secure--and he was grateful for that. But what about Jamie? He wouldn't forgive himself if she got killed all because of his bad judgement. She was his sister and he had the duty to protect her. His muscles were twitching and his stomach turned the more he thought about it.

Maybe Leigh was right. Maybe light conversation was the thing that he needed to get him out of this state of mind. Telling himself this didn't really help though. He knew that the thought would be at the back of his mind no matter what he did.

The trip seemed to take forever--even at their rocketing pace. Cars moved quickly out of the way, banking on the side of the road as the duo passed. The speedometer told him that he was going about 120 miles per hour. That had to be bad on the truck. It was a used truck after all. He'd done it up as nicely as he could, but he couldn't take away the wear and tear that had been done to the vehicle over the years. It was groaning a little from the work Doug was putting it through.

Doug groaned when it made a weird sputtering noise. But it continued to run, albeit not very smoothly.

Leigh patted the dashboard with a wan smile for him. "She'll make it," she announced.

Doug only hoped she was right. They probably had a good five minutes before they hit the Lampton Hill city limits--not that it could be called a city.

Doug's cell phone jangled loudly and he nearly jumped out of his seat. He stared at the thing like it had grown two heads. It was the cell phone that Rollson had given him. Did that mean that one of Rollson's men was calling him?

He swallowed and brought the phone to his ear, pressing the talk button. Leigh was looking at him with a curious expression.

"Hello?" He asked in a dry voice.

"Hey, Doug," It was the detective. "I just talked to Staves. A big group passed him almost ten minutes ago."

"What about the hotel?" Doug said immediately.

"All the wolves have been evacuated--and the other people too," he added as an afterthought. "Except, there was this one man having a seizure and they couldn't move him, so he and his family are still in the building."

"And they won't hesitate to attack the building because there are humans inside," Doug replied bitterly, obviously confirming the detective's fear. "They'll justify the killings by saying that they've got rid of a group of werewolves and the humans died for a good cause. If they decide to attack, that is."

Leigh had drawn a breath beside him.

"And you have your doubts?" Tross inquired.

"Yes," he answered. "There will be a shift in power. The new leader might think there are better ways to be spending their time and men. Besides, once they find out that their base exploded, they'll realize they're out of provisions, money, and a place to retreat."

He groaned as the engine sputtered again. "Tross? I don't know if I'm going to make it the whole way. My truck's about to give out. It's not used to this kind of abuse."

"Hang in there," Tross replied. "If she goes on you, I'll pick you up...but try to take her as far as you can. I don't want to waste time stopping when there are more important things up ahead."

Doug nodded and then realized that the detective couldn't see him. "Yeah. Okay. We're almost there anyway."

He hung up the phone, placing it aside. He really shouldn't be using it anymore. Rollson had probably already prepaid a year for him, but it was most likely bugged too--which he hadn't realized until just this moment.

He slapped his hand to his forehead with a strangled cry.

Then he thought about what he had just said with renewed hope. He'd 1) tipped the enemy off that there were no wolves at the hotel to attack so they wouldn't likely hurt the humans inside, and 2) that their base was destroyed if they didn't already know. This could actually work to his advantage--if they were listening in on his calls. It seemed plausible. After all, if they thought they could find more information about what Doug and the people at the hotel were supposedly doing by listening in on any calls he made, they'd be far better off for their attack.

They drove passed a police car sitting at the side of the road, pretending that it was looking for speeders. Staves waved as they sped passed and into Splinter Bridge. They didn't slow down their pace despite the signs. But it was still slow going because they squealed to a stop, nearly ramming into the back of the detective's car more than once as some idiots decided it would be a good idea to get out on the road.

They were two blocks from the hotel and Tross' light stopped flashing.

His phone jangled again. He picked it up and heard Tross start. "I'm going to--"

"Not on this phone," Doug interrupted immediately, cutting him off. "Call Leigh's cell."

Then he turned off the phone, tossing it to the floor. The thing was as good as useless if Rollson's men could listen to him every time he spoke. It would be a good way to keep track of him wherever he went. He'd have to find some way to get rid of it. And soon.

Leigh's cell jangled. "Hello?" she said.

She nodded a few times and then turned to Doug. "Tross is too conspicuous," she told him. "He wants us to take a drive by the hotel to see if there's anything suspicious."

He nodded and puttered ahead. When the hotel came into view, it looked absolutely baren. There wasn't a single car in the parking lot. He moved into the sidestreet so that he could circle the building. But there was no one in sight.

"Where would I go if I didn't want to be seen?" He muttered.

"How about that copse of trees passed the houses?" Leigh suggested.

He nodded and followed her directions, moving slowly because the truck was getting worse. There was one gravel road leading into the copse of trees. He turned to Leigh questioningly.

She nodded, sending him a weak but daring grin. She looked so tired and sapped, but she was willing to try anyway. "We can handle them if we have to. The TryptoKeri's still active. We can run toward the houses. I don't think they'd take the risk--hurting some humans for one werewolf and a reformed wolf hunter."

He nodded and turned the steering wheel in a sharp right. The truck bumped along the pitted gravel road, bouncing up and down and rumbling about. The engine whined at this simple beating. As they drew farther and farther in, Doug got a weird feeling in his stomach. They were definitely going the right way.

His thought was confirmed when a dozen vehicles appeared out of the motonous view of trees. A large group of about forty men was standing about in discussion. It seemed as though they had just reached a decision because they were heading back to their vehicles when Doug's truck appeared in sight.

The men fell into alert and then there was an earth-shattering noise. So lost in the confusion, the only thing Doug could think to do was grab Leigh and dive to the floor. He was dimly aware of shattering glass pitting into his arms and legs. His back was well protected from the bulletproof vest.

The earth-shattering noise like a dozen guns shooting, paused after what must have been ten seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. Vehicles shuddered to life and then cars were whizzing passed the truck. He couldn't see them but he could hear them, slipping awfully close.

The truck shuddered, lurching to the side as one of the vehicles thought it would be a good idea to ram it. Taking the first driver's idea, another slammed into them. With a great wrenching squeal, the truck slipped down into the small ditch, bumping Doug and Leigh about. The truck pitched over and landed on its side, shuddering to a stop.

They landed against the side hard and lay there dazed while the vehicles drove away. After about ten minutes of just lying there and breathing hard, Leigh picked up her cell phone and called a number. Doug assumed she must be calling the detective. "Tross," she asked in a strained voice. "Where are they?"

There was a pause and then, "They're leaving town?"

A broad grin grew up her cheeks. "Really?"

Doug leaned in close to hear Tross' reply. "Really," he responded.

Leigh let out a relieved laugh, thanking the detective and hung up the phone. Before Doug could figure out what she was doing she'd jumped at him. He tried not to wince, his body all sore. It was too bad that he didn't regenerate as fast as she did. In one pounce she was kissing him, and by that time the pain had subsided.

He moved to kiss her back. After a few minutes they pulled apart and Doug gazed at her with a serious expression. "I have to go after them. After the men, I mean."

Leigh frowned. "What?" She asked, her tone slightly outraged. "No!"

"Yes," he replied stubbornly, reaching out to touch her cheek. "I have to know if they ever plan to come back. I need to make sure that if they are, we're prepared. I need to find out what they're up to."

"But you might get killed." Leigh snapped out. "Let someone else do it!"

He shook his head, his eyes pleading. "I know them best of all. I know their techniques, their friends, how they hide...Leigh, it's got to be me. Can't you see that?"

Leigh sighed, looking away. Her eyes looked wet. "What if I never see you again?"

"You will," he tried to assure her, even though he wasn't sure himself. "Don't worry."

"Now come on," he said with a smile and they helped each other pick their way to the front of the car. With a couple of good kicks, they were able to break the front windshield and crawl out. They trudged off through the woods in the direction where they had last left Tross.


End file.
